Finding Alec Lightwood
by Blue eyed fantasies
Summary: "In at least one way, the brothers were alike. They both liked to pretend to make up for that which was lost: themselves." Bad-boy Alec is lost in a haze of parties and alcohol. Can newcomer Magnus Bane find him? Summary inside. AH/AU a bit of intentional OOCness. Please read. It's better than it sounds...
1. Broken promises

**This is the prologue to my new fic. Just as a warning it will probably be the most OOC fiction you have ever read... Also it will be AH, starring mainly Magnus and Alec.**

**Alec is the popular, heart breaker dating the georgous Clarissa Fary and Magnus is the gay new kid who no one wants to befriend. What will happen when he meets Alec? And what's happened to Issy and Jace?**

**That sucked but please read it and... You'll see. This first chapter is from Issy's POV just to get the background of the story... Enjoy!**

**Oh and you all know I don't own it right? If you don't... Then you're stupid.**

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**Prologue****: Promises**

**_Promises are like people, easily broken._**

**Isabelle**

Isabelle knew that her brother was broken. But what she didn't realise until now was that he was broken beyond repair. She had tried for several years to open him up, to heal him. She had failed. He slipped away from her as the years went by, hiding under his disguises and facades. Until she forgot who her brother actually was.

'The announcement' happened 2 years ago, as soon as Alec turned 16, between Alec and their parents. No-one knew what happened. One day everything was normal, they were a happy family, or so she thought. What Isabelle didn't realise was that something in Alec had finally snapped.

The next day he requested emancipation from his parents.

He had announced it calmly at the breakfast table as if he were talking mundanely about the weather. There had been a moment of silence as everyone processed the information. Then all hell broke loose. Her mother started screaming and shrieking whilst her father calmly escorted her and Jace out of the room, claiming that their mother needed a little time to calm down.

Isabelle remembered all too vividly the shouting matches that had ensued in the weeks after the announcement. They stretched on for hours and hours on end for the next few weeks as she and Jace lay together in her bed, hugging each other tightly and clutching a pillow to their heads in a desperate attempt to muffle the words that a parent should never say to their child.

_'...pathetic bastard''...wish you're never been born''...no son of mine'_

She never got to go to see the file explaining all the reasons why Alec should be emancipated. She never got to go to the court case. She never understood why it happened or how Alec got their parents to agree. But he did.

She remembered when she walked into his room to find him packing up his stuff. The room was bleak and bare, no life in it whatsoever and the finality hit her. He was really leaving, this wasn't some childish gesture to make a point, he was independent, not a part of their family. She had clung to him, begging that he take her with him, to no avail. He had been crying as he whispered to herm combing her hair. 'I'm not going anywhere Issy. You'll always be my sister. I'll always be there for you. Whenever', he had whispered in her hair.

'Promise?'

'I promise', he had said solemnly, hooking his long pinky with hers, a seemingly childish gesture incongruous with the heartbroken situation. But he had promised.

It took Isabelle two years to realise that her brother was a liar.

It took 2 years of Alec slowly drifting away from her for her to give up. He had moved to a small apartment on the other side of the city and attended a different school, still promising that he would visit every week. And he did, at first. But over the months the visits and phone calls had become further apart and in the past few months he often spoke to her in a slurred voice, with the pumping of loud music in the background hurting her eardrums and the sound of shattering glass resounding in the distance. She was often cut off by some off her face girl, giggling down the line as she told Isabelle that her brother was occupied.

The times when he wasn't drunk he was usually blank and abrupt, the phone call lasting no longer than a few minutes. It made Isabelle wonder what had happened to the sweet caring brother she had once had and she desperately tried to find him. But Isabelle finally had to accept that her brother was gone, lost in the haze of alcohol and parties. He was drifting away from her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He had lied to her, he didn't care about her. And he certainly wasn't there to help her deal with all of her problems.

And now she was all alone.

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**So sad :'( poor Isabelle... It will get better, pinky promise. That's kind of ironic considering that the chapter was about broken promises... But in the next we'll actually see Alec and something will actually happen. Anyway, reviews would be lovely please... :)**


	2. Heartbreaker

**So this is the second chapter. Ta da! Just to make things clear I don't own any of the Mortal Instruments characters, motorbikes or Popov vodka... Nor have I ever had to drink popov vodka... Really, I haven't :3 **

**I do own Mr Davies but... he's kinda boring :( I wanna own Alec! *Pouts***

**Oh and since I'm obsessed with quotes and sayings, I'm putting one at the start of every chapter except the last one which was mainly me :) they might not actuallly have anything to do with the chapter... I just like quotes and random things :)**

_'If love isn't a game, then why are there so many players'_

Alec awoke groggily to the usual pounding in his head. It was a thudding reminder that, yes he had a hangover and no, it wasn't going to go away. He struggled to actually remember a time when he wasn't awoken by the insistent drumming in his head, it had become almost soothing, the one reassurance in his life, steady as a rock. He opened his bleary eyes, surveying the damage and found himself to be in his own familiar bedroom. Alone. _That's a shocker, it must have been a very boring night last night_, he thought. It was not often that Alexander Lightwood woke alone, without some sleazy girl that he would almost certainly never see again, draped across his chest.

He wearily battled with the warm bed covers for a few moments before he swung his feet firmly on the ground and heaved himself off the bed. He made his way to the bathroom, the paracetamol and ibuprofen beckoning him and found himself swaying slightly. _Must still be a little drunk, _he thought dazedly.

As he gulped down his usual handful of painkillers he looked at his reflection. Mussed black hair crazily sticking up in all angles, slightly blood shot eyes glared at his reflection and... What was that? A great big, fat, red intruder slap bang in the middle of his fucking forehead. _Well, that's what hair's for, _he thought lazily as his fingers sifted through his tangled locks, hiding the evidence. He would have a fringe for the day. It wasn't like he ever actually bothered with his appearance but Alexander Lightwood didn't get spots. Maybe it was sleep deprivation and all the alcohol...

He supposed, one day, he would feel the full effects of living life to the full like he did every night but, quite frankly, he didn't give a shit. Nothing really mattered any more.

He quickly got ready for school, roughly pulling on his rumpled black uniform with a leather jacket on top and grabbing a cereal bar which he stuffed into his mouth before he made his way to his old, battered motorbike. He would have liked a car but his small budget didn't really stretch that far. Besides, bikes were cool. And his main aim in life, it seemed, was to remain cool.

He pulled out of the car park that surrounded the dingy set of apartment blocks that he called home. Ever since he had got a part time job, his parents had started giving him less and less money. The little black digits in his bank account slowly dwindling which meant he could only ever really afford the bare essentials. It wasn't like he expected his parents to give him a huge allowance after all they'd been through but his current life was worlds away from the life of luxury and snobbery that he used to have.

Many would get the impression that Alec Lightwood had it all; the girls, the popularity, the friends. Hell, he didn't even have to put up with annoying siblings. He was free, uninhibited. So, why did he always feel so imprisoned?

_Damn it, _he thought, _stop thinking these depressing thoughts, _as he suddenly jerked to the left, remembering that he had to pick up his girlfriend, Clary. She lived in a rich neighbourhood, as everyone thought he did. He wasn't going to tell anyone he lived in a crappy apartment that often had no electricity. He wasn't going tell them that living in a shitty apartment alone was preferable to living in a palace with his parents. That's how hellish they made his life.

Clary's house was a little too similar to his previous house for comfort. There was a reason he had left and didn't want to go back. A long sweeping drive ploughed through luscious, impeccably kept grounds that stretched on for acres, the house itself looked like a castle and Alec knew, from previous experience, that Clary's room was situated on the left hand turret. The mansion even had a huge fountain in the middle jetting out water all year round no matter if everywhere else was as dry as the Sahara Desert. And it was all finished off with a pompous door that looked big enough to fit a drawbridge in it and then some. No, he wasn't going to tell Clary that he lived in sin and squalor. Just as he wasn't going to tell her that he was seeing notorious slut Aline on the side of this 'relationship'. Let her think he was an angelic choir boy that had never had to buy Popov vodka from the reduced shelf in Aldi (which he had done, on numerous occasions).

He came to a halt in front of the imposing steps leading up into the imposing fortress, taking off his helmet and shaking out his ruffled ebony locks whilst revving the engine so that she knew he was there.

Suddenly the grand doors opened a slither and Clary sidled out, looking minuscule against the backdrop of the gigantic mansion and making him wonder how a person so tiny could open such a gigantic door. Alec couldn't help noticing that the skirts she had been wearing recently had been getting shorter and shorter every day until now it just about covered her bum. His presence often had that affect. He could turn a nun into a prostitute if he really wanted to. She waved, smiling seductively when she saw Alec's sexy bed head and badass leather jacket and skipped over to him, having to stand on tip toes to plant a sweet kiss on Alec's lips even though she was wearing illegal heels, another result of Alec's corrupting influence. School really wouldn't approve.

It really was quite comical how different in just about every aspect they were. Clary was innocent, Alec was anything but. Clary was filthy rich; Alec was squeaky clean out of money for the majority of the time. Clary was incredibly short, Alec was impossibly tall. Most would take this as a sign that they weren't really meant to be, but Alec wasn't dating Clary because he liked her. He wasn't even dating her because he found her attractive.

He was dating because everyone else thought she was.

Clary was just another conquest for him, another step in his never ending quest to be popular. She was just one in the line of beautiful girls that he could toy with and eventually break. He supposed it was cruel... But who said you had to be nice? His parents certainly weren't.

When Alec thought about it, he realised that he never really was attracted to any of the girls he dated. He sometimes wondered if he was asexual or incapable of love. It certainly wouldn't surprise him after all the shit he'd been through.

Clary disentangled her lips from his, putting a finger to hers in wonder. Alec was a wonderful kisser and he always left them tingling. But when she looked up at him she could see that he obviously didn't feel the same way. He was looking away, his eyes clouded over and a stormy blue, transported to another place, not thinking about her. She sighed, crestfallen before she waved a hand in front of his face. Alec's gaze snapped back to hers. It never failed to take her breath away, the startling intensity of those piercing blue eyes and she felt her pulse quicken.

'Good morning', said Alec, amusement sparking in his sapphire blue eyes as he whisked Clary effortlessly into the air and settled her on to the bike, taking her by surprise. She giggled, startled by Alec's sudden rush of affection as he handed her the helmet and he himself got onto the bike. Clary wrapped her slender arms around him, smiling at the feeling of the warmth of his body snuggled up to hers. Alec turned towards her, a wicked grin on his face as he leaned in for a kiss. Clary eagerly leaned forward but found herself jolted back just as their lips were about to connect as the bike suddenly lurched forward.

'Tease!' she shouted into the wind as they picked up speed, and the laughter bubbling up from Alec's chest made her heart sing as he turned towards her with a smirk on his face.

'Eyes on the road, jackass!' she screeched, laughing. Alec turned away, putting his attention on the road as he weaved in and out of the traffic. Clary took the time to admire his raven black locks that were windswept into tumultuous tumbles and the lean muscles of his curved back which was pressed against her chest. His touch and presence sent shivers running through her body, making her feel reckless and alive. The way she always felt with Alec. She certainly had... strong feelings for Alec Lightwood. That was all though... right?

They pulled up to the school car park just as the bell rang, officially marking them fashionably late. Alec jumped down from the bike, reaching over to gently help Clary down. She was so small, he felt she might break in his hands. _Good, _he thought. That was what he wanted... right?

'Come on. We'd better get to class', he said quietly.

'What about my kiss?' asked Clary, pouting her lips. 'We were so rudely interrupted earlier on...' her voice was now a sensual purr as she brushed his lips lightly with her dainty fingertips. Alec captured her hand in his own and kissed each fingertip softly before slipping his hand down to her waist and drawing her towards him, lightly brushing her lips with his own.

'Lightwood! Fray! Get to class! You're late! Detention for both of you!' shouted a teacher as he walked towards them, effectively breaking them apart.

'I could say the same thing to you Mr Davies. Weren't you meant to be in school... an hour ago' replied Alec, an innocent expression on his face. Mr Davies glared at the student before silently giving in to the threat of blackmail and walking on by. Alec smiled in victory before he snaked his arm around Clary, making his way leisurely into school. Perhaps today wouldn't be so bad after all.

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**I warned you it would be OOC. Alec making Clary into a slut! Alec _dating_ Clary! Alec a heartbreaker! *Gasp***

**I just always wanted to see what it would be like to make a confident, bad boy Alec and what Alec and Clary's relationship would be like. Yes, I am aware that he is gay and I'm aware that a certain glitter bomb is missing. But let's just see what happens...**

**Reviews please? :)**


	3. Escape

**This chapter has been annoying me for two weeks now. It has been rewritten several times and I still can't get it quite right. I'm a perfectionist but I think I just need to get it out there. It's kinda random and Clary has somehow managed to weasel her way into this story despite it being a Malec fic. Seriously, what is wrong with me? **

**In case you are extremely unobservant, I am not Cassandra Clare and I don't own this or the piano, wouldn't it be cool if I did? I probably own the schools although no doubt they've already been done by someone before...**

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_"Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness." ― Maya Angelou_

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They slowly sidled into school, prolonging their brief moments of freedom outside the ugly building and angry teachers. A kaleidoscope of rubbish lay strewn haphazardly on the ground, the remnants of yesterday's litter an assortment of cigarette butts, bottles and crisp packets amongst some other unidentifiable objects. Clary wrinkled her nose in disgust which made Alec roll his eyes. It really wasn't that bad, she should be accustomed to it by now.

Saying that Alicante Comprehensive was a dump would be an understatement. Clary longed for the luscious, rolling grounds of Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls. At the time, she had desperately wanted to escape the boarding school because of the modest nun-like clothes and strict regime. But at least there she knew the roof wasn't going to fall on her head and she didn't have to endure walking through a landfill site to get there. She didn't have to worry about food poisoning from the grey sludge they called food or even getting tetanus if she sharpened a fucking pencil. No, she didn't like Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls but she hated Alicante Comprehensive. The school was riddled with alcohol and drugs and had the hygiene standards of a sewer.

Incidentally, it was alcohol that has got her kicked out of the academy; that and a combination of bad grades. It's strange how one night can change everything. She'd wanted to be rebellious, to take a taste of the wild side. But she'd had much more than a taste and had somehow ended up half naked with some boy on the school roof. Needless to say that, coupled with her appalling grades, meant that Clary's time at the Fairchild Academy drew to a close rather abruptly. They didn't give second chances.

Her father didn't give second chances either.

She had never heard him so angry. His face was a livid red, showing up furiously on his pale face. And she had never heard him say such vulgar words to her "whore", "bitch", "slut" but all of them paling in comparison to "a useless drunk, just like your mother". The latter broke her, still reverberated around her empty head now. When he had started to think rationally he had enrolled her in Alicante, knowing that she would find that punishment enough. And from then on, she had been in this hellhole.

She guessed it was true, the grass always looks greener on the other side but once you get there you see it was a trick of the light and you would do anything to go back over the fence. But it was too late. The wild, flamboyant life of partying and alcohol had lured her in. She had just wanted to do something cool and courageous for once in her life but once caught she was now tainted with the association even though she hadn't drunk a drop of alcohol since. And the fact that she was surrounded by it everyday made it more and more tempting to give in, to let the dark oblivion of alcohol and drugs overcome her. But for now she would remain an angel, of sorts, struggling on to resist the offers of alcohol and brownies with a 'secret ingredient'. For now.

The only thing that made going to this school worthwhile was the dark haired boy standing beside her. She didn't know why. He didn't talk much, he wasn't witty or intelligent and he didn't make her laugh (well, not intentionally anyway), but he made butterflies flutter in her stomach. It was completely irrational but she relied on Alec's small smiles and fleeting glances to last the day, to make life bearable. She knew she shouldn't become so dependent on someone but she couldn't seem to help it. Her life in general seemed to be spinning wildly out of control with her tumbling afterwards, trying desperately to catch up.

Lost in her thoughts completely, Clary hadn't noticed that Alec had lead them to the shabby reception area to sign in. It was supposed to give off a good impression, a modern, sophisticated look but ended up looking tired and slightly clinical with its cheap, plastic chairs and blatantly obvious Ikea pictures.

The school secretary sighed as they knocked on the glass window, accustomed to seeing the regular delinquents, late again. She roughly rolled open the window irritably but when Alec flashed her a dazzling smile she blushed softly, smiling flirtatiously. Clary glared at her, a look that could have cut glass and the secretary coughed awkwardly before handing over the sign in clipboard and averting her gaze from Alec's mesmerising blue eyes. Alec thoroughly enjoyed utilising his 'get-me-off-the-hook' smile, knowing the effect the mischievous grin combined with almost hypnotic blue eyes had on just about every single woman on the planet.

Clary didn't appreciate it quite so much, finding herself having to fend off swooning girls constantly. She placed her hand on his arm possessively, tugging him towards the door once he had signed their names. He smiled again sweetly at the abashed secretary before heading for the door.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" asked Clary. "You could come over and we could, you know..." Clary broke off, raising her eyebrows in a suggestive way. But Alec was looking away into the distance, wrapped up in his own thoughts. Again.

"Alec?" Clary said, nudging him for an answer and feeling some gentle sparks in her arm. She longed to entwine her fingers in his but held herself back. Alec wasn't one to hold hands. He wasn't really fond of affection at all really and Clary sometimes wondered if he felt the tingling sensations that his touch incited in her. _Does it really matter?_ She thought.

"Oh," he said, shaking his head as if he had forgotten she was there, which he probably did... "Erm, sorry I've already got plans with Seb and Jon" he muttered. A lie. A complete lie. He really had plans with Aline tonight. And it took all of his concentration not to blush or fidget, a flashing beacon to Clary of his untruths. She stifled a sigh, Alec had been 'busy' more and more recently. He had always been aloof but this was taking it to a new level which made Clary get a foreboding feeling in her stomach.

Alec had remained a mystery to her for the whole 3 months that they had been going out. She didn't know where he lived, he always came to her house. She hadn't met his parents even though he had met her dad a few times too many times, often in a compromising position. And she didn't know anything about his past or his upbringing. She didn't know about the memories he had experienced that weaved in to the fabric of his being, making him the person he was today. So many secrets, so many pieces of himself held from her reach. And as time went on, the mysterious bad boy charm that she had initially thought was so sexy was beginning to wear thin. There was a cold veneer that shrouded Alec, keeping him detached from the world as if he were looking at it through a sheen of glass. This only made Clary more impatient and determined to break the glass though. To set him free.

Acknowledging Clary's crestfallen look in her emerald eyes, Alec forced himself to knot his fingers in hers. His long slender fingers swamped her's but she gazed up at him, a watery smile on her lips.

"Some other time then," she said wistfully as she gently pecked him on the cheek, disentangling her fingers and opening the door to her classroom.

Clary was in the year below Alec, although he was the eldest in his year and she was the youngest in hers which made them almost two years apart. She acted her age, young and naive which was partly the reason why Alec dated Aline on the side. He didn't want to be seen as soft. Of course he was also out partying most nights as well which almost always resulted in women throwing themselves at him. Alec often wondered how Clary didn't notice his despicable actions; it wasn't like everybody else didn't. It was almost unbelievable how trusting and naive she was and Alec supposed he should have felt bad for treating her in this horrible way. He should probably have felt guilt and shame for getting her to fall for him and then dragging her back to reality. But he didn't.

He felt nothing.

Alec absentmindedly wandered through the corridors, not sure what to do with his free period, and found himself drifting towards the music department. That was part of the reason he had come to this school; despite the rest being crappy, the music department was decent. A soft violin melody floated around the building, lulling Alec until he found himself seated in the padded bench before a grand piano, his fingers itching to stroke the ivory keys. He hadn't played the piano in two years. Today, though, he felt a restless energy coursing through his veins and he couldn't pinpoint the reason so he decided to let it out. He began playing and the gentle hum of the piano reminded him of when he began to play in the first place..

He had been 12 at the time and he still remembered it with sharp clarity.

_It was raining which made both Isabelle and Jace restless. Alec, however, found the pelting symphony of rain on the windows very soothing and wanted nothing more than to be left in peace and solitude with his new book. Sadly, his siblings did not have the same desire._

_"Jace, I'm bored," whined Isabelle from her place hanging upside down on the sofa, her black hair cascading to the ground in a pool. Alec rolled his eyes as he shuffled further into his spot in the corner, knowing all too well the disastrous consequences of Isabelle being bored. _

_"I have an idea," said Jace, after a moment of reflection. The mischievous glint in his tawny eyes made Alec's stomach twist with dread. In a flash, Jace had whipped the book away from Alec and had tackled him to the ground and was tickling him, wracking squeals out of the small boy, preying on Alec's hyper sensitivity. Isabelle soon joined in, laughing delightedly at playfully torturing their brother. This had resulted in an hour long chase around the mansion, Alec trying of find every secluded hiding place he knew and every time being foiled by the other two. _

_Finally, he had reached the very end of a long corridor with a foreboding black door. It was his only chance of escaping the deadly wrath of his energetic siblings and he could hear their squeals and thunderous footsteps approaching rapidly. He opened the door, choking on the dust motes that filled the air and crouched behind a chair._  
_After a few minutes of hiding, Alec realised that the excited squeals of his siblings had died away and he was now alone. At last. _

_Looking around the room, he saw that the sole occupant was a big black object which, once uncovered, revealed itself to be a grand piano. Sucking in a breath, he gazed in awe at the marvellous sight in front of him. It was glistening black, the ivory keys contrasting with the sleek black top. But Alec felt a pang of pity. It was rather silly really, to feel sorry for an inanimate object. But he did as he saw that the instrument was a mere shadow of its former glory. He guessed it was similar to him, neglected and lonely. His parents were not fond of the arts and this was clearly for show, a token gesture to add to the innumerable layers of the facade that was the Lightwoods. _

_He reached out, tapping the very centre white key. The clear note reverberated through the room, perfect in sound and in pitch, untouched by the careless hands of time. From that one achingly, sweet note onwards, Alec was hooked._

Afraid of his parents scorn and disapproval, he slipped away to play when he was alone and wouldn't be missed by his parents. This was often. It was probably the source of all of his bad behaviour, Alec mused. From his desperate desire to play the piano, he had begun 'borrowing' money from his parents to pay for music books and, occasionally, a tutor. Although attending a piano lesson was a mission that required great skill and planning so, generally, he taught himself, spending hours labouring over the keys, learning the piano inside and out until it became a familiar acquaintance. No, more than that. It became his friend, his best friend.

The piano was his one way of venting out his emotions. Which was probably part of the reason why he kept it a secret from everyone. It was personal. When he played music, it was like a diary to him. And sometimes Alec thought it was the one thing keeping him sane in his life. Over the years Alec had spent many solitary hours with that piano, building in confidence and surety until he wracked the most beautiful and complex melodies out of the piano, restoring the neglected instrument to its former glory. He found he preferred the simple melodies though, despite the fact he could play frantic pieces such as Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu, reserved for only when he felt a boil of emotions. No, his favourite piece was Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major op. 9 no.2. He loved the delicate swirls of the melody as it gradually built up to the spectacular ending and it made him feel completely at ease. A tranquility fell upon him as his hands glided gracefully over the keys, no thought required at all as he knew the piece so well.

And no-one knew. Everyone believed him to be stupid, worthless, just another pretty face. A drunk, a player, a dick head were all familiar names but a musician? No-one knew that he had such powerful emotions and astonishing skill. He kept it hidden, just the way he liked it.

He placed his foot on the golden pedal, brushing his fingers over the worn keys. This piano lacked the familiarity and warmth of his piano at home but he could never play that piano again; for many reasons, not least because he had moved out. But a piano was a piano and Alec was glad that he could sneak in here unseen and unheard. His 'friends' probably believed he was having a smoke or making out with some girl. It was better this way, if they knew about his piano, his guilty pleasure, they would scorn him and his reputation would be ruined. Alec didn't want that.

He was in the middle of Rachmaninov's piano concerto no. 2, his fingers dancing over the keys frantically and his mind taken away in the vortex of emotion that music often brought to him. For some reason he was agitated today, his mind and body restless and he was playing as loud as the could, his hands slamming the keys violently. All of the emotions that had built up over the last few years were released towards the poor piano. His eyes were shut tight, he did not have open them to know exactly where the keys were, they were permanently mapped out in his mind. But in the middle of his angst and boiling emotions, he sensed a presence and, unsettled, he reluctantly opened his eyes to meet golden green eyes, gazing into his own.

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**I wonder who on earth those eyes could belong to? *sarcasm* ;)**

**Sorry if that was boring... Things will get more interesting but I wanted to show that Alec does care about something and is only 99% heartless bastard. I also felt I needed to explain why Clary, a rich kid, is going to such a crappy school... Anyway reviews please :) I'm on holiday now and the sun is shining momentarily so I may just have more time to write...:)**


	4. The art of existing

**Hello people who read my stories. :) To those who reviewed, favourited, alerted ect, a big thank you, they really motivate me. :D Although, I'm not sure I like the 'everyone can see how many favourites and followers you have' thing, I like to remain private. Speaking of that, I have changed my username because I get bored easily and I was bored of the last one :P, in case any of you were confused so I'm now Blue eyed Fantasies :)**

**Now to actually talk about something relevant. I know the last chapter built up to Magnus and Alec meeting and, believe me, they will actually talk like normal people in the next chapter, well... Sort of normal I guess. But I think we need a little more background on Magnus. He's been through a lot so be nice to him which would involve being nice to me so I can be nice to him and write him a nice, happy future. Oh, I confuse even myself :S**

**Sorry for this ridiculously long AN, at least I own it, unlike the MI.**

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_Be yourself; everybody else is already taken - Oscar Wilde_

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They can't be fucking serious.

A uniform? An ugly, unflattering, antiquated, box-like, dull, drab, devoid of any glitter uniform along with any other adjective he could think of. Magnus Bane shook his head, holding up the red and green school tie with his fingertips, a look of disgust on his face. Red and green? It's not Christmas, they're all going to look like fucking elves. Well, except for Magnus, who would look like a freakishly tall elf in his 6 foot glory. But still, did they really expect him to wear a uniform. Isn't there some sort of legal right he has to wear whatever he wanted like freedom of fashion or something? Oh right, there wasn't because at Alicante comprehensive there was supposedly some strict uniform policy.

Well, strict uniform policy or not, Magnus would not be deprived of his glitter and make-up. He would rather walk in butt naked than attend his first day of school devoid of any make-up. On that invigorating thought, Magnus began applying a thin layer of foundation, a thick line of kohl eyeliner which curled up at the edges, some clear lip gloss, mascara and a coating of glitter which he also sprinkled into his crown of spikes that he had meticulously gelled and styled. Though he knew it was stupid, coating himself with a layer of make-up gave him courage, an impenetrable layer that no-one could crack. Ironically, it was one of the causes of all of his problems.

He bounded down the stairs, not wanting to be late for his first day of school. He quickly grabbed a cereal bar and laced up his sparkly blue converse that he'd bedazzled himself. He hoped that he could get out of the door before...

"Magnus?" came a voice from the living room. _Damn_.

"Yeah mom," he answered, sighing as he walked into the living room. The smell was disgusting. How long was it that she had taken a shower? The thought was cut off when he took in the daily heart breaking sight. There lay his mother, sprawled out on the coach in the position that he usually found her in. He could barely see the curly black curls through the thick smog of blankets that engulfed her. He bent down, gathering the row of empty glass bottles that had accumulated around her nest of blankets.

When Magnus' dad died when he was 14 in a car accident, they'd both found their various ways of coping. For Magnus, fashion and make-up was his sole comfort, protecting him and covering up how torn up and depressed he was. At least Magnus had retained a sense of normality; his mother, on the other hand, had retreated into an impenetrable shell. When she wasn't drunk, she was sleeping. When she was awake she was smoking or drinking and, although he hated to accept it, Magnus had heard her having more and more conversations with her dead husband. His mother was slowly going insane.

She hadn't really woken from this stupor since the funeral. It was if when Magnus' dad had stopped living, she had decided to stop too. So from then on out, she and lived life with her eyes firmly closed. Magnus wasn't kidding himself; his mother wasn't living, she was existing, immersing herself in fantasy to compensate for the disappointment that was reality.

And no matter what he did, he couldn't get his mother to wake up.

Sometimes, Magnus envied his mother. She didn't have to endure the heartache that he went through every day. She didn't have to suffer the insults and rejection for being different, for being gay, unnatural, a freak, whatever they decided to call him. She didn't have to live through hell like he did. Every. Damn. Day. In short, she had taken the easy way out and Magnus often wished that he could do the same, just curl up with his mother on the couch, drinking and dreaming the remainder of his life away.

"Magnus," his mother sighed, "that's not exactly following school rules," she scolded, schooling her expression into a disapproving one. Magnus was shocked; she was rarely able to slur out his name, never mind tell him off for disobeying school policies. Now that he thought about it, most of the time he felt pity for this poor creature, heartbreak that such a fierce and fiery woman had been broken to pieces, leaving an empty shell. No-one could truly want this.

He dumped the bottles in the bin, threw open the curtains and the window to circulate some of the stagnant air and tucked his mother into the blankets, gently brushing her unruly hair out of her eyes.

"I can't go out without it mom. It's a part of me," he said as he adjusted her blankets. He had long ago given up trying to get his mother out of the house, it was futile.

"But Maggie, you make it so obvious. Can't you just tone it down a bit? Maybe then you wouldn't get bullied so much," she said, lifting a frail hand to stroke his face. Magnus felt a little hurt at that comment. His mother had always seen in black and white though. To her, the simple answer to Magnus' problems was to hide, to cower away. But Magnus was the complete opposite of his mother; he could not hide that part of himself. Still, his mother of all people should know why Magnus endured it everyday.

"I can't. You know that" he replied, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead before he picked up his school bag.

There was a reason behind this. His make-up wasn't only for comfort and show. Magnus' dad had always told him to show his true colours, to be himself no matter what people thought. "Be yourself Maggie, everyone else is already taken," he had whispered to him on a daily basis. Magnus' father was a big fan of Oscar Wilde. And Magnus was determined to follow his father's advice, to honour his memory. His father would not die in vain. Magnus felt rather bitter that his mother hadn't remembered this although she probably wouldn't even remember this conversation in a few hours in this catatonic state.

"Bye mom," he whispered softly as he took in the sad sight before him, the crumpled figure broken beyond repair. His mother didn't reply. She was already asleep.

Drilling his headphones into his ears, Magnus hunched his shoulders and left the house, shutting the door with a soft click, not wanting to wake his mother from her dreams. It was the only place she was safe, untouched by heartache. He took a deep breath before he trod down the path, travelling the short distance to school.

It was damp outside, the air smelling of wet leaves as it had been since he had set foot on this God forsaken island a month ago. Honestly, did the sun never shine in Britain? No wonder they were all pale as milk bottles in comparison to Magnus' olive tan. He shivered, feeling a light drizzle in the air just as he was walking through the school gate.

So maybe starting school in October probably wasn't the best idea. The fact that he also had to adjust to the English school system didn't help either. A lot of hard work was in store for him. But the move was necessary, he couldn't take another day at his last school where he had suffered constant bullying and aggressive behaviour. A handful of jocks had made it their lifetime ambition to make his life a living hell.

They had achieved it.

Magnus had thought he was strong, enduring constant name calling and rejection for years. But a name too many, it seemed, and he cracked. One especially difficult day he had asked his mother if he could move schools and she replied that she wanted to move to Britain, away from the country that bore too many reminders of her late husband. Britain didn't seem to be that much better, in fact it was like America with worse weather and pompous accents. But Magnus wasn't one to judge on first appearances.

It was very hard not to do that with Alicante comprehensive though.

He sighed, looking up at the school. It was clear that they had at least attempted to give off a cheerful persona. Half the school was painted what was probably once a bright, sunshine yellow but had faded and crumbled significantly. This colour abruptly stopped and turned into a sallow grey though as if someone had started painting it half heartedly but had run out of paint or something. This was, incidentally, exactly what had happened.

Magnus merged in with the sea of students that was slowly swarming through the school gates. He noticed he definitely wasn't the only one breaking school rules, catching sight of some pink streaked hair and lots of heavy make-up. A few students had several piercings, holding cigarettes to their lips lazily.

_Strict school policies my ass_, thought Magnus as he made his way through the crowd to what looked to be a shabby school office.

"Yes," said the school secretary impatiently, not looking up from her captivating computer screen. Unless Rihanna was a former pupil of Alicante Comprehensive, he doubted looking at an article about her shoes was necessary at this point in time, still, he persisted stubbornly.

"Erm, hi. I'm Magnus Bane. I'm new here," he said nervously. The secretary sighed, picked up a schedule, handed it to Magnus and shooed him away, all without taking her eyes away from the alluring article. He scanned it and, sure enough, it was actually his timetable and he found himself a little impressed. It seemed, however, that no-one was actually going to help him and he would just have to stumble around the school, blindly hoping that he wouldn't get lost in the maze of classrooms. Luckily, his first lesson was a free period, that lessened the blow. He still had to find his form room though and his locker. He emerged form the office and, scanning the corridor of students, he picked someone at random. He supposed he'd picked him because of his startling hair colour; so blonde it was almost white, accompanied with deep brown eyes. Not Magnus' type but he looked friendly enough from a distance.

"Hi, could you tell me how to get to N47? I'm new here," he asked the boy with an apologetic expression.

The boy's black eyes swivelled round to Magnus and, although Magnus wasn't particularly religious, he found himself wondering if this boy was possessed or something as he stared into a pair of soulless pits. The boy surveyed Magnus, smirked as he examined his flawless nails and pointed down the hallway. Magnus was beginning to regret coming to ask him, he looked pretty hostile upon closer inspection.

"Watch your step glitter boy, wouldn't want to ruin your pwetty make-up by falling flat on your face," the blond haired boy hissed, giving Magnus a light shove down the crowded hallway.

Some things never change, no matter how much you hope.

* * *

Somehow, Magnus had managed to find his form room without more confrontation. He was now sitting in the library with absolutely no work to do and no-one to discuss this with. Loneliness wasn't a stranger to Magnus though.

He decide to explore the school, hoping to avoid having to ask anyone else for directions. He found himself wondering to the music department although he was actually searching for the art block. Magnus himself was not music at all but could appreciate the emotional power that music had. He preferred art himself and, if given the choice, would pursue a career of fashion design or drawing portraits. However, Magnus wasn't a dreamer, he knew that he should invest his time in something more practical seeing how his mother wasn't working and their money was slowly dwindling away. Magnus had already applied for a part time job at the coffee shop down the road. He couldn't bear to ask his mom to start working again, she was too fragile.

Magnus walked through a narrow corridor painted a sickly aubergine colour with yellow music notes plastered all over that. _Fatal mistake, assigning someone who's colour blind to design the school_, he thought, shaking his head in disapproval.

A sweet melody drifted from underneath the door closest to him. He didn't recognise the piece himself, mind you Twinkle twinkle little star was probably his limit, not being a fan of classical music himself but it sounded complicated, swirling notes frantically merging together at a blinding speed. Magnus, finding himself lured in by the music, opened the door and silently creeped into the room.

A boy sat at the piano, probably about the same age as Magnus himself. He had hair as black as midnight which looked shocking against his pale, luminescent skin tone. He had chiselled features, a strong jaw and high cheek bones adorned with a pink flush. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and dripped down his cute button nose at the exertion. His slim fingers were nimbly dancing over the keys, making it seem so effortless. His eyes were shut tight, his body swaying with the music. Magnus found himself being irrevocably drawn closer to the mysterious piano player until he was staring into his face. Leaning on the piano, Magnus gazed at the boy, captivated by his beauty and elegance. He seemed restless, anguished even as his fingers darted over the keys. If only Magnus could take a glimpse of those eyes, the window to the soul.

The thought had barely popped into his head when Magnus found himself assaulted by a confused pair of cerulean blue eyes that utterly frazzled any coherent thought he might have had up until that point until all he could think was:

_Fuck, you're beautiful._

* * *

**As you can see, we find ourselves in the same meeting place yet again. Maybe I should rename this fic Groundhog day.**

**Poor Maggie! I cried for him a little in that chapter. :'( Why am I so cruel to him? Anyway, I'm not very good at the insults which was why he was called glitterboy so I may need a little help in that in the future. I'm not really sure about this chapter but, oh well, there it is...**

**This story is being written in a very strange way... I'm sort of writing it backwards... I know what's going to happen in the middle and the end but I still need to link them together... So, yeah... I use ...WAY Too much... :O**

** Please review. :) **


	5. Striking a chord

**This one's a few days late because I got caught up in the whole Olympic spirit thing so ended up going to London to go watch team GB fail in the scorching sun. I'm not a fan of sports, nor am I now a fan of the sun apparently...Then I had a freaking power cut when I was just about to upload this chapter. :(**

**To make things worse this chapters just ugh! It's so freaking annoying! :Z It's very difficult writing these characters in this fic because it's AU and Alec is the bad boy. So, I have to write them slightly differently but still keeping the same essence of the character the same. It's just one big freaking contradiction!**

**Anyway, I don't own the characters in this big freaking contradiction, that honour belongs rightfully to Cassandra Clare - a sad fact that none of us MI fanfictioners can ever forget.**

* * *

_"Anyone can make you happy by doing something special, but only someone special can make you happy without doing anything" - Unknown._

* * *

The clash of dissonant chords reverberated around the practice room, making both Alec and Magnus wince in unison at the horrible sound. Having been assaulted with a pair of yellow/green eyes, Alec had suddenly found his fingers fumbling about on the keys. Apparently, one set of gorgeous eyes staring at him and he was a goner, not having the mental capacity to even play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

_Wait, did I just call this stranger, this male's eyes gorgeous? _Alec suddenly thought in horror.

Unknowingly, he had been sucked into the tantalising combination of moss green and golden yellow eyes, invoking in Alec deep memories. He recalled wistfully seemingly endless childhood summers filled with the sights and smells of fresh cut grass, dazzling sunshine and...laughter.

Alec hadn't had cause to laugh or smile with true conviction in months. After all, what, in life, was there to smile about? Sure, he might plaster a smile on and fake laughter when amongst friends. But it was just that: fake. Somehow, it wasn't quite the same when you had to teach yourself how to do it in front of a mirror. It made Alec feel false, like he was constantly wearing a mask so that he could give off an impression of being somewhat normal. Because he knew deep down that he was abnormal, a freak, yet he desperately tried to repress it and, by doing so, had lost the ability to see the humour or joy in life, especially amongst the narcissistic people of Alicante.

Yet, somehow, this absolute stranger made him feel light and careless. Somehow, he felt...good, better than he had in a while and wanted to laugh, to spark the amusement that was so evident in the alluring eyes.

But all good things come to an end.

**Aline**

She was wandering around the school, trying to find Alec who she knew had a free period, when she heard the music end. It had been a beautiful piece, performed with exquisite talent which had drawn Aline closer to the door to see who was the skilful musician was. Although she didn't play a musical instrument herself, not having the time amongst her complicated romantic affairs, she could still appreciate the exceptional talent nonetheless.

It was just as she peeked through a gap in the doorway that the music ended in a series of disharmonious notes that grated against her ears. Curious, she stuck her head through the gap, her eyes widening in shock at the sight before her. Alec was seated at the piano, his fingers hanging midair. Who would have thought _Alec_ of all people would play the piano? she thought. Alec, who spends half of his time drunk and the other half thinking about it. Yet here he was, stating, awestruck at a stranger before him.

Having never seen this person before, she concluded that he must be new and proceeded to gave him a quick once-over. The new student was undeniably attractive with an even, golden skin tone and a lithe, tall frame. His face was encrusted with makeup, his hair artfully ruffled in a very appealing way. _Gay, definitely gay,_ she thought, acknowledging the glitter coating his shoes and face. Well, either that or bi but there was most definitely nothing straight about this guy and he didn't even try to hide it. He looked stunning and she found herself longing, enviously to ask how he did his makeup. She also envied this person's confidence, putting himself out there like she could never do. He radiated confidence and surety of his sexuality, wearing it like a cloak which made him striking and bold.

Of course, Aline felt no attraction to him whatsoever. Indeed, she didn't find most boys as attractive as everyone thought she did. Aline had suspected since she was 13 and had received her first kiss with a boy that she was different.

A lesbian.

Sharing a kiss with Helen Blackthorn a few months ago had only confirmed these suspicions. It had been nothing she had ever felt before with a boy, filled with tingling sensations that had only left her wanting more. When she kissed a guy she felt nothing, just a set of cold, slick lips against hers. From then on she had begun a secret relationship with Helen who was, like her, in the closet and using another boy- Jonathan she thought his name was- to cover up.

When had her life become so complicated? When had she had to have several 'secret' relationships that were anything but to cover up her real secret relationship? It was all rather clever really. The school population were too busy gossiping about all of the boys that were two-timing their girlfriends with her that they didn't notice that she was actually two-timing them with Helen. It took a lot of deceit, planning and skill, none of which Aline lacked. But when had she begun to put all of her efforts and concentration into retaining her 'normal' facade so that people didn't think she was a freak? Alicante Comprehensive thrived on gossip, scorning anyone who was just slightly different. Yet, ironically, very student had a secret, a dark secret that they did everything in their power to protect. Secrets and lies. They made up the complex web of deceit that was Alicante, where no-one was as they appeared.

It seemed that Alec was not all that he seemed either. Not only did he have this secret talent hidden but the way he was staring at this entrancing man gave Aline a suspicious feeling.

It was more like gazing actually, enraptured by his beauty. In fact, they were both ogling each other in wonder. It was as if their was a silent conversation between them, a strong connection. Aline recognised that look. It was the look she saw on Helen's face and the expression that she knew was upon her own face every time they locked eyes. _But Alec couldn't be...could he?_

Her thoughts were scattered, however, when Alec spoke, his voice fragmenting the oppressive silence. "Who the fuck are you?" _Maybe not_, Aline thought, smiling at Alec's usual blunt speech. Charming, as always. The glittery boy's eyes widened, as if he didn't know what to say to this and a thick silence fell again.

"Magnus Bane," he eventually squeaked, after a pregnant pause, thrusting a glittery hand in Alec's direction over the piano.

**Magnus**

_He's looking at my hand like it's going to explode glitter or give him some disease,_ thought Magnus with a sigh, catching the student's dubious look. Magnus was used to that look. It's not like it wasn't obvious with all the makeup and sparkles. He was well accustomed to the looks of disgust or fear and the rejection that accompanied it. That was why he was surprised when the boy took it, shaking it meekly but saying, "what kind of name is that?"

This was also a customary response when he revealed his quirky name. Magnus Bane, meaning either great annoyance or great destruction. He preferred to think the latter, it was the marginally nicer of the two.

"Mine," he replied, surprised that his voice didn't betray him by shaking, "isn't this where you tell me yours?..." he asked, raising his eyebrows. The piano player just shrugged his shoulders with a smirk though, a smirk that Magnus couldn't help feeling was forced, an act of bravado.

"Maybe," he got up from the piano, the bench scraping with a screech, "why are you here?" he added, pulling the cover onto the piano. Magnus was slightly saddened that he wouldn't hear anymore of the enthralling music but he quickly scrabbled for an answer.

"I'm new here," Magnus answered.

"No shit," he interjected with a snort, earning a glare from Magnus. Magnus Band did _not_ like being interrupted.

"And I got a bit lost when I was wandering around the school. I heard your lovely music and I came to investigate," Magnus continued. Sure it wasn't witty or sarcastic but it was the truth.

"Lovely?" The pianist scoffed, as if he thought his music was anything but. A small smile was on his lips though so he quickly said, "Skipping class on your first day,"amusement sparking in his blue eyes. "That's not a very good start."

"Well so are you Blue eyes," Magnus replied quickly. The boy's eyebrows raised, clearly startled by the nickname.

"Blue eyes?" he asked sceptically. Magnus could see him attempting to battle a smile.

"Yeah, your eyes are blue aren't they?" he said, rolling his eyes. "Would you prefer something else mon petit Chopin?" he asked, catching a slight blush from the other boy which made Magnus breathless and lightheaded at its beauty. It was like a delicate rose blooming on his face and he wanted nothing more than to bring it back again. Blue eyes quickly tried to stifle it though, plastering a sardonic leer on his face to cover it up. It was as if, Magnus noticed, the boy was shy but was trying to put on a confident front. Utterly confusing.

"I would prefer Rachmaninov," he replied, mumbling a little, and Magnus revelled in his absolutely adorable English accent which was not at all pompous like he usually thought.

"Bit of a mouthful isn't it? You clearly don't understand the concept of nicknames," Magnus said and Blue Eyes laughed, a beautiful, melodic lilt which was so contagious Magnus found himself laughing too. The piano player quickly stopped though, clearly surprised at himself. _It's as if he doesn't laugh much_, Magnus couldn't help but think sadly.

"Perhaps I should just tell you my name," he suggested with a smile and Magnus nodded eagerly.

"It's..." but he was drowned out by the screaming wail of the school bell which seemed to change something. Magnus could see it in his eyes. It was as if he was coming to a sudden realisation, as if someone had thrown a bucketful of ice water on him, bringing him out of a daze. His eyes widened and he abruptly turned around, briskly exiting the room. Magnus tried to follow as Blue Eyes quickly jerked the door open. But when he emerged, he found that he was nowhere to be seen, melted into the sea of unknown faces.

_Damn_.

**Aline**

This brief conversation between Alec and Magnus confirmed it. He was gay. It was obvious really, yet such a shocking revelation that left her stupefied. Alec: confident, straight as an arrow and a notorious player. Well, obviously not so much now. The way he had playfully teased Magnus, the way he had looked at him: filled with lust and plain admiration. It all amounted to one conclusion. Alec. Was. Gay.

The discovery that there was someone else in the school that was like her, that was secretly gay, comforted her. The only other person that was in Narnia along with her was Helen but she went to a different school which meant that Aline had no comforting face during the day. But the knowledge that she and Alec were similar in many ways was a great solace to her. Maybe she wouldn't be the only 'freak' In the school.

Lately, she had begun feel the sinking suspicion that people had spotted her and Helen kissing or had begun to notice something. She often got many wary or suspicious looks when walking down the corridor accompanied with a torrent of whispers. It was only a matter of time really; at Alicante Comprehensive they were ruthless, stopping at nothing to uproot the deepest secrets hidden in the dark depths of your soul. It was only a matter of time before she was discovered and outed. She wondered how Alec had managed to keep it hidden so long. Was Alec really that good an actor or was she just abnormally intuitive?

Unless, wait...unless he didn't know. Aline's eyes widened as she mindlessly wandered down the hall, buried deep in her thoughts. Now that she thought about it, he had shot out of there like the whole place was burning down, terrified. He seemed...scared and shocked. _Oh my God, he doesn't know! s_he thought, stifling a gasp. That would probably explain the player-like activities, dating countless girls to see if he was attracted to any of them. It all clicked into place.

_But what_, Aline wondered, _should I do with this new found information?_ She was selfish, a bitter truth that she fully accepted herself. Her first thought was always how anything could benefit her or, recently, Helen. Could this dirty little secret of Alec's be a useful blackmail material? An evil glint caught in her eye and a devious, smirk spread across her lips. No, she had a much better idea. After all, she wanted the spotlight and suspicion off her romantic affairs so what better way to do that than by exposing Alec's own.

Either way, she knew she needed to have a serious talk with Alec tonight. And it would decide whether she kept his little secret...

Or not.

* * *

**Until a few hours ago, I wasn't going to put Aline in the meeting at all. It was just going to have Alec and Magnus talking for the first time but I was reading it back thinking "this is crap and very boring". I mean there's only so many ways you can say "what's your name?" So I thought adding Aline would add a bit of interest. Tell me if you liked it. She's probably not as malicious in the books but Cassie never really goes into much detail about her character so I figured I would have free rein.**

**That was a bit of a bitch to write as I said why in my earlier AN but tell me if I got Magnus' and Alec's speech and character right because I'm not really sure yet...there's also the fact that dialogue is not one of my strong points. :S And it most certainly doesn't help that Magnus doesn't know Alec's name and I felt it getting a little repetitive...:/ Honestly, I just felt it didn't flow but I would really like to know what you guys think. For some dumb reason I've become completely paranoid about my writing...**

**Jeez, these ANs are getting longer and longer. They're like a whole freaking page! Just one last question: what is our opinion on love triangles, or rectangles or even freaking love webs? It does have something to do with the story and will dictate the direction it goes in. You have the power, use it. Review! :D**


	6. Say it

**Two chapters in one week? Unheard of. Don't expect it again, I really need to work on my other fic...:/ But I got inspired for this chapter. **

**I've got one word to describe this: angst. **

**Angst, angst, angst galore. :) The quote's pretty depressing too :'( although it's a little random...But If you don't like angst... Well, you're pretty much screwed. :/ **

**Now, I know that I said Alec was going to a be badass and so far he...isn't really. Don't worry, he will be more bad boy in later chapters but in this chapter he's kind of falling apart... :O**

**I don't own any of these characters or lighters or cigarettes. By the way I've never smoked in my life (and I don't condone it) so if my description sounds weird...you know why. ;)**

**I'm not going to do an AN at the end. You'll probably see why... Anyway, when you get there you're going to be all on your own so when you see the white light of the review box, walk towards it and drop a review for me...please? Pretty please? *virtual puppy dog eyes*.**

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_"Sometimes...you can cry until there's nothing wet in you. You can scream and curse to where your throat rebels and raptures. You can pray, all you want, to whatever God you think will listen. And still it makes no difference. It goes on, with no sign as to when it might release you. And you know that if it ever did relent...it would not be because it cared." -Jhonen Vasquez_

* * *

The cold click of the lighter penetrated the frosty air. His hands trembled as he shook a cigarette out of the packet, immersing the tip in the dancing flame so that it glowed orange. Alec slowly brought it to his lips, inhaling the familiar smoke in the hope that it would clear the hazy fog that clouded his mind so that he could think clearly. Usually, he needed the scented steam of a hot shower to really think but, for today, he would have to make do with the typical cliche of having a ciggy behind the bike shed.

_Think, think, think_. He puffed out a stream of wispy smoke, watching intently as it dissipated into to the cold winter air and waiting for the familiar warmth to fill him.

It didn't. His coping mechanism wasn't working.

"Damn it!" he muttered, clutching his head and sinking into a crouch against the cold, brick wall that he was leaning against. What was that? The way Magnus had made him feel, he'd just never felt that way before. He'd finally felt almost...content. It had been so easy talking to Magnus without the barriers that were usually restricting him. There was just Alec and Magnus. Magnus and Alec.

Hell, Magnus had even made him laugh, a near impossible task. And his presence had been so intoxicating, making Alec feel dizzy and light headed with it. If the school bell hadn't rung and interrupted him, he didn't know what he might have said...or revealed. There were many things that should never revealed about himself. That was why he had so many barriers and layers, why no-one could see the real Alec Lightwood that Magnus had seen a glimpse of. That was why it was dangerous being around Magnus and why he had to avoid him. At all costs.

But what, about Magnus, made him feel this way? He was just a human being like everyone else. Well, from his appearance, he hadn't looked it. Magnus Bane literally dazzled, soaked in glitter which accentuated his features in all the right ways. He looked almost mystical as if he was surrounded in magic. Although Alec would have liked to see what he was like under all the layers of make-up, he was sure that Magnus would be evn more beautiful...

_What?_

Alec was heaving huge breaths now, the neglected cigarette hanging limply in his fingers. He had suspected something was wrong with him for a while, since he never felt any spark of attraction towards girls. Never. Not one. But he hadn't expected...this. It, it just couldn't be happening, not now. Yet as he remembered Magnus' enticing eyes, his lean frame just hinting at muscles, the way his heart rate had sped up at seeing him, Alec's denials became weaker.

_Well, fuck._

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be...

"Hey Alec!" came a voice from around the corner. Alec quickly straightened up, wiping his face clean of expression just as he saw Clary's small form emerge around the corner.

"What are you doing here?" asked Alec quietly, hoping that his voice didn't tremble.

Clary eyed him suspiciously before leaning up to give him a kiss. Alec turned his head at the last moment though and she caught the corner of his mouth, barely touching it. Alec registered a brief flash of hurt on her face before she quickly concealed it, breaking the awkward silence by answering, "Free period. I can't say the same thing for you though," and she narrowed her eyes playfully, knowing full well that Alec didn't care whatsoever if he skipped class. Alec just lifted his cigarette, tapping the ash residue onto the ground absentmindedly.

When he didn't say anything, Clary tutted, "Smoking again," playfully scolding him before plucking it out of his fingers and taking a short drag herself. She coughed slightly, making Alec smirk as he removed the cigarette, flicking it away to join the pile of cigarettes that had built up on the ground. No matter how bad ass Clary liked to appear, she was pure at heart. She probably hadn't even smoked before.

"I came here to think," Alec reluctantly admitted after a short silence.

"Oh," Clary said, scrunching her eyebrows up. _What does Alec have to think about?_ she thought. _He's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box._ Well, she'd never really put much thought into it. Was Alec smart? Did he have any talents? From what she'd seen of his very patchy attendance to school and how he spent most of his time partying or sleeping, she guessed not. _So what does he have to think about?_

"So, um..." Clary began, struggling to find something to say. She needn't have been concerned though as she found herself thrown against the brick wall, barred by Alec and felt warm lips on hers. He was attacking them furiously, nipping, sucking and pressing so hard that she was sure to have bruises covering them. One hand grabbed both of her wrists as she tried to wrap her arms around him, holding them over her head against the wall. She gasped as Alec crushed his body even closer to hers and continued his ferocious onslaught on her neck. He was now biting and licking her neck, drawing gaps from a very flushed and ruffled Clary. They had never kissed like this, with this much desperation and intensity. She felt herself sinking, melting in the heated sensation.

"I love you Alec," she whispered, so faint that she doubted he heard it. She gasped, hoping and praying that he hadn't heard. She hadn't meant to say it but it had slipped out as she became lost in the tingling sensations. This made her remember her best friend Simon's warning. Since she had started going out with Alec, he had been acting weird, repeating the same warning time and time again.

"He's dangerous Clary," he had urgently insisted. "Give him your heart and he'll break it and wear the pieces as jewellery around his neck."

Clary had always scoffed at this, always replying that she wasn't anywhere close to falling in love with Alec Lightwood. They were just dating. But as she spent more time with Alec, she became more intrigued by him, more attracted to the perplexing boy until she found herself melting in his presence, practically a gooey puddle on the ground if he smiled or caught her eye. And recently she hadn't answered Simon's warning as confidently, a hint of doubt clouding her voice. She couldn't be certain but as it took her longer and longer to answer, as she felt herself falling, she caught glints of despair in Simon's eye every time. _Why is he so upset about it_? Clary often wondered.

Honestly, she didn't think herself so naive and innocent as to give someone her heart after just a few months. Yet, apparently, all it took was Alec Lightwood to kiss her and she was thrusting her heart at him on a silver platter. She couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding now that she'd said the taboo L word...even though she meant every little word. She did love Alec, more than she ever thought she could. However, she'd broached new, treacherous waters and there was no way of going back. She just prayed that he hadn't heard her because she didn't think he was willing to follow quite yet. From the way his kissing didn't falter, she guessed he hadn't.

Unsure of whether she felt relief or disappointment that he didn't hear, she merely brushed it off, hooking a foot around his leg to draw him even closer and, once again, losing herself to the heightened sensations, to the fireworks that kissing Alec brought.

But through the lust filled haze, she felt Alec hands tightening, gripping her wrists in a vice like hold and digging his nails in painfully. She knew that she would have crescent shaped marks on her wrists and struggled to get him to relieve some of the pressure to no avail.

Alec didn't budge. She was trapped.

She desperately fought tears pricking at her eyes. It was strange how quickly one could go from elation to panic. Clary desperately tried to let the drowsy sensation fill her up again, tried to lose herself in the kiss. And she very nearly did. But just as she nearly drowned in it, nearly lost herself to the pure need, she felt a sharp pain which brought her to her senses. Alec had bitten down especially hard on her neck, breaking skin and drawing blood. Clary shrieked, making Alec immediately release her wrists. She shoved him away, rubbing the purple marks that dotted her wrists. She brought a finger to her neck, feeling the warm trickle of blood and saw it glistening on Alec's lips like scalet red lipstick.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, glaring accusingly at Alsc and bringing a mirror out of her bag to check her reflection. Sure enough, her lips were bruised and swollen, her neck blanketed in bright red hickeys and scarlet blood which showed up vividly on her now pallid skin.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Alec, his voice shuddering and his eyes wide with fear.

Clary scrambled for her bag, tossing one last contemptuous look at Alec before she ran off, tears streaming down her face.

Alec sunk to the ground, holding his head in his hands. _Shit, what have I fucked up now?_ he thought. He scrambled in his pocket for another cigarette but realised that it just wouldn't help him in any way and angrily lobbed the whole box into the distance.

"Come on Lightwood. Get your shit together," he muttered. Except, he wasn't really a Lightwood anymore was he? Not since he'd "disgraced the family name" as his mother had so nicely put it.

Alec sighed, resting his head against the wall. He didn't know what had come over him when he'd kissed Clary. He'd just wanted to prove to himself that he could feel, to convince himself that he was attracted to women.

He hadn't been convinced.

Quite the opposite actually and he was now entirely sure that he was... Yet he still couldn't bring himself to think it, never mind say it. _Say the word, say it_, a poisonous voice whispered in his mind.

When Clary had whispered that she loved him, so quietly he thought he'd imagined it, something inside of him had snapped. Before today, he probably would have thought 'mission accomplished, another girl fallen for the Lightwood charm' along with the surge of victory and power. Yet today he just felt...nothing. Something had changed. Before, when he didn't know he was... (_Say it, say it, say it) _he at least thought he had a chance of reciprocating the feelings, even if he never did. Now though, he knew there was no way he could ever feel anything for Clary Fray or any girl for that matter. The thought had made him angry and he wanted to unleash his rage on the fragile girl before him, to make her suffer and break like he did.

But mostly he wanted to be angry at the universe or fate or whoever the hell it was that decided it would be a good idea to make him a freak and screw up his life. They'd already made it bad enough before adding this. Clearly someone up there had it in for him. And he was so angry he began to see red.

He slammed his fist into the wall behind him with such force that the skin over the knuckles broke, spilling blood over his hand. Red, to match his thoughts. The pain did nothing to clear his thoughts or his rage like it usually did, it just sent a throbbing burn through his body and increased the intensity of his hate.

He wanted to unleash his rage at the universe which was probably laughing at him right now, chuckling at the pathetic mess he had become. He wanted to scream and kick and burn the whole of bloody Alicante down so everything would be quiet. Finally. It was just then that the sun peeked out of the clouds, as if to taunt him, to sneer at his misery. _Damn you universe,_ Alec thought, _for making my life hell._

Because the simple fact of the matter was that he was..._Say it, say it, say it, SAY IT._

"Gay," Alec sobbed, choking out the bitter word which seemed to hang heavily in the air, tainting his being and adding a sense of permanence. He curled into a ball, burying his head between his knees.

And for the first time in 10 years...Alec Lightwood cried, the sun beaming down on him as if to revel in his despair.


	7. The cracks in the mirror never go away

**I'm really sorry to AzOOAK that I couldn't get this out when they wanted. In fact it's nowhere near. Sorry :( I just had no inspiration. :/**

**This chapter's also been re-written A LOT. I was reading it through thinking, "something's missing" and I only had a pitiful 300 words. Then I realised my Glitter Bomb was missing! So it bumped up to over 3000 words. ;)**

**Don't own it, never have. :(**

* * *

_"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection." - _Lady Gaga

* * *

It had taken exactly 1 hour, 12 minutes and 29 seconds to stop the uncontrollable crying and to dampen it down to soft sobbing. She knew because she was counting, thinking it might calm her down. Alec had once admitted in one of those rare insightful moments that in times of emotional strain he counted, and she wondered if it might work for her.

_1... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5... 6.._

It didn't.

And Clary was reminded yet again of how different they both were.

Alec liked ordered structure whereas she liked creative chaos. Alec was closed off, sealed in his own world whereas Clary preferred to be open and trusting. She let everyone in, something that she probably wouldn't do from now on. Opening yourself up let people in to break you. Opening up like she had done with Alec lead to this: curled up in a ball in a girl's bathroom, taking 1 hour 12 minutes to stop crying and 23 minutes, 6 seconds to work up the courage just to look at her own reflection, scared of what she might find there.

She vowed to herself never to open up again. She would stay strong, uncaring, with a hard shell and a locked vault around her heart.

She would stay strong. She would look in that damn mirror, even if it killed her.

And she did.

Her first thought was: _that cannot be me_. As she peered into the smeared mirror, haunted forest green eyes gazed back, huge and wobbly with unshed tears and hidden amongst the multitude of angry red and purple bruises. She was pale underneath the marks, an unhealthy, sallow shade that contrasted with the bright gashes and the black smudgy mascara lines that ran along her cheeks.

What stood out most of all was the huge fission running down the mirror in a jagged line. It ran down the middle of her face and webbed out at the bottom, dividing it into tiny little pieces and distorting her features. If anything, it made her look more vulnerable, a not so subtle metaphor for her predicament.

So naturally, it made her think of her relationship with Alec.

This mirror seemed the epitome of it: broken. Hell, it was an epitome of Alec and, now, herself. Honestly, she didn't have a clue as to why he had acted that way in the alley. Yet it was just another lie to add to the web, another shroud of mystery. Clary had vowed to open him up, to remove the lies and the mysteries and see what lay underneath. She had hoped, for a brief and wild moment, that admitting her love for him would do just that. _Look how well that's turned out_, she thought bitterly.

Because that's what happens when you try to fix things. Alec was broken, no denying that and Clary had vowed to fix him. What she didn't realise at the time was how extreme his fragility was; one touch and he shuts himself off. One word and he cracks. Three words and he shatters into a million little pieces, breaking her with him.

_He's broken. I'm broken. Everything's broken._

And she didn't know how she was ever going to repair it. In fact, she was starting to lose her resolve to do so.

She raised a trembling hand and gently touched the harsh red marks that stood out like beacons against her fair skin, wincing slightly. The pain brought back the memories sharply and she sucked in a breath.

_Black hair tumbling around him, blue eyes glazed over with an unreadable expression. Heated gasps mingling between them. Lips on lips, on her skin, on her neck, nibbling and sucking. Devilish bliss._

_"I love you"...whispered in a torrent of uncontrollable emotion, hanging regrettably in the air between them, forcing them apart._

_Lips on lips, on her skin, on her neck, biting and leaching viciously. Pure hell._

Clary gasped, sinking against the counter and holding her head in her hands as the tears fell once again, slowly trickling down her cheeks and tickling her skin with heat. If anyone saw her now... Clary Morgenstern: most popular girl in school, lying broken and crying in a dingy bathroom. Over a boy, no less. And she was sobbing loudly at that, anyone could hear her. Good thing she locked the door.

If Simon saw her now: splintered into pieces, unsurprisingly heartbroken, weeping over the very boy he had warned her about... _"Give him your heart and he'll break it and wear the pieces as jewellery around his neck."_ She wasn't ready for the "I told you so" superiority speech. She wasn't ready for the wary, sympathetic glances as everyone took in her vulnerable state. She wasn't ready to see anyone really. In fact she was going to stay here until she...

Her thought was cut off when she heard someone banging at the locked door. She held her breath, immediately stifling her crying in the hopes that this intruder would go away. They didn't. They remained stubbornly banging on the door relentlessly.

She sighed, furiously wiping away the tears and heaving herself off the floor. There was at least 3 or 4 other fucking toilets on campus. Did they really have to use this one? She guessed the need for other people to pee didn't stop when she had an emotional break down though, and unlocked the door angrily.

Opening the door a crack, she cautiously looked out. She blinked, startled, when she saw a towering, unfamiliar figure. In her surprise, she moved the door open wider to get a better look. The boy before her loomed over her at just slightly over 6 foot. She could only tell he was male from the fact he wore trousers. In fact, he was so freaking tall, Clary had to strain her neck to see his face. Upon doing so, she discovered striking features: intriguing yellow and green eyes, heavily lined in expertly applied eye liner, prominent, sharp cheekbones and luscious pink lips covered in clear lip gloss. Accompanied with a crazy assortment of arty spikes and glitter. There was lots of glitter involved.

"Um," Clary stalled, not really knowing what to say. "The boy's bathroom is down the hall..." she trailed off, eyes darting uncertainly to the ground where she discovered a pair of azure, glittery blue converse. There was no doubting which team this boy played for.

"Actually, I just came over to see if you were...alright." His deep voice was filled with sympathy and...genuine concern. Clary was surprised and she looked up in surprise. He was nervously scratching his neck behind the black, spiky hair and she felt a pang of warmth towards this boy. His care and concern was touching, something she never expected from anyone going to this school.

She came to the conclusion that he must be new.

"I'm fine," Clary quickly said, to which the new kid looked dubiously at her. It was then that she realised what he must be seeing: a small girl with tear smudged makeup and bruises adorning her neck who he had probably just heard sobbing hysterically in a bathroom. Yeah, she was the epitome of "fine".

He crossed his arms, tapping his foot in a gesture that said "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." Clary also smiled at his diva like nature. It was clear he had a strong, bold personality and was not afraid of what people thought of him. She longed to be like that, to be whoever she wanted to be.

She would probably be the feisty, arty type, wearing little make-up and simple clothes, not caring about appearance. The complete opposite of what she actually was. She could imagine herself: covered in multicoloured splotched of paint, smiling easily, not a care in the world and just being Clary - the girl who liked to paint. She wouldn't have iPhones or expensive makeup and jewellery. She would probably be teased, unpopular, a nobody to everyone except a few specisl friends. She dreamed of reality and reality was the stuff of dreams.

Because reality was a lot more glamorous. She had everything: money, popularity, head cheerleader, hot boyfriend... All the cliches. In fact the one thing about Clary that wasn't cliche was that she wanted none of it. Ironically she dreamed of a simpler life - the opposite to everyone else, it seemed. Because she had learned that glamour was not all it's cracked up to be. And sometimes dreams were made of the same stuff as nightmares.

She may have been top of the pyramid in all senses. But Clary knew that one day she would inevitably come tumbling down. And there weren't many people willing to catch her anymore. That was when thr dreams turned to nightmares.

Clary sighed defeatedly, "I'm just...going through a rough time."

The boy's eyes softened, "well, that makes two of us," he said before somehow managing to manoeuvre his way past Clary into the bathroom. It wasn't really that hard, considering how small she was. _Should have suspected it_. When she looked through the door she was surprised to see the boy rooting through her unopened makeup kit that was perched next to the sink. He whisked out a flannel, gently soaking it under the hot water tap before looking up at her. She stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Come on!" he ushered her towards him. "We can't have you looking like a broken hearted Frankengirl all day." And despite herself, Clary smiled as she locked the door with a click, deciding instantly that she liked this boy as she sat on the chair he had placed in front of the mirror, forming a makeshift salon.

So when he asked, "what happened?" whilst softly dabbing her face with the flannel, she found herself answering truthfully, albeit somewhat vaguely.

"Just some dickhead," she muttered, indicating the bruises.

"Isn't it always," he replied as he busied himself with her face. She was surprised how gentle he was with her skin; she barely felt it when he touched the marks. It might have been this tenderness that made her trust him: a gangly, glittery boy who she did not know the name of and had randomly started doing her makeup after demanding entrance to the girl's bathroom. Although she admittedly had really started to trust him when he he came over, all the way to the unchartered territory of the girl's bathroom just to "make sure she was alright".

"Clary Morgenstern," she said, sticking her hand out to the kind boy behind her. He met her eyes in the mirror, smiling gently before replying, "Magnus Bane," and encasing her small hand in his own.

* * *

Her suspicions had been confirmed when she discovered Magnus was a new student, all the way from America. They joked for a bit about Britain and the bad weather, making small talk for a few minutes as Magnus worked on her face. He had also admitted he was bisexual and very flamboyant, a fact that was already obvious to Clary by the way he...

"Ooh darling you have MAC! Good tastes," he squealed as he leafed through the blue bag to find some foundation. They both giggled for a moment but Clary saw Magnus' expression sober as he took in the bruises, catching her eyes briefly in the mirror.

"So tell me about this dickhead," Magnus suggested gently whilst he started brushing on her foundation.

"His name's Alec, Alec Lightwood," she whispered and closed her eyes, sighing softly. She knew it was stupid but just saying that tiny piece of information relieved some of the burden on her shoulders. And she relished in how easy it was to talk to Magnus and how much better she felt in the few moments they had spent together. Magnus' presence was like a soothing salve and she felt herself relaxing, unwinding as he did everything for her. She would have ended up looking an absolute mess if she had to shakily apply the makeup herself and Magnus was clearly a master.

"Just his name makes him sound like an ass," muttered Magnus as he expertly covered the marks so that they seamlessly disappeared. "I mean, who calls himself Alec instead of just plain Alex?" Clary laughed, enthused by Magnus' "Alec bashing". And as he covered the marks she realised that he also covered the pain, making it easier to bear - at least for now.

And that was how she found herself sitting in the girl's bathroom, emptying out her heart to a boy she had just met and basically going against ever vow she had made to _"keep her heart in a locked vault."_

Who keeps vows anyway?

* * *

"So what does Asshat look like?" Magnus asked. They had started calling him that somewhere along the middle of the conversation, when Magnus laughed at Clary's unusual choice of insult.

"Tall - almost as tall as you, pale porcelain skin, blue eyes, black hair..." Magnus suddenly jerked the eyeliner pencil so that it made a wobbly, black line in to her hair.

"Shit," he muttered as he wiped it away with slightly shaky fingers.

"What was that about?" asked Clary incredulously.

"Nothing," Magnus said before groaning. Clary had been so honest and open with him so... "Well, actually, I met a boy today who I really liked. He fit your description of Alec. And well, blue eyes, black hair aren't really that common a combination are they? " he mumbled the last words quickly, looking at her almost guiltily, as if he'd committed a crime.

"Where? What did he say?" Clary's expression was unreadable as she twisted her hands together.

Magnus was now brushing on her mascara gently, "he was kind of... sweet. I didn't catch his name though. We met in the music room. He was playing the piano really..." Magnus broke off when Clary started laughing.

He looked at her confusedly before she said, "Magnus, Alec doesn't even know where the music room _is_, let alone play the freaking _piano_," Clary exclaimed. Magnus was still a little skeptical. "You obviously met Will," she added.

"Will?"

"Will Herondale. Tall, black hair, blue eyes... Sound familiar?" Clary raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, yeah he does," Magnus breathed a small sigh of relief that he hadn't flirted with Clary's asshat of a boyfriend. Magnus wouldn't put it last himself; blue eyes and black hair were his undoing. He would most definitely have to find this Will and have another conversation with him though...

"Although he's never been...sweet. Closed off, moody and mean? Yes. But never sweet." Clary furrowed her little eyebrows before her green eyes widened. "He must really like you!" she practically squealed excitedly. "Ooh you could be a really cute couple!" Magnus was glad to see her green eyes dancing with excitement but there was one issue.

"Is he even g..." Magnus was cut off by a sudden noise erupting through the bathroom. After a few moments, he realised it was a cheesy ringtone of 'Call me maybe'.

Clary glanced at him apologetically before pulling a pink iPhone out of her bag and answering whilst Magnus set to packing up her makeup.

"Yeah?" she answered.

_"Hey Clary,"_ it was Isabelle Lightwood, sounding somewhat subdued.

"Oh, hey," Clary said, stifling a sigh. Truth be told she really didn't want to speak to Isabelle right now. She didn't really want to talk to anyone, Magnus being the exception by being so damn stubborn.

_"Listen, can we meet up for lunch? I really have to talk to you about Simon,"_ Isabelle sounded slightly desperate and Clary rolled her eyes. She was probably worrying about what to wear on her date with him tonight or something.

Isabelle had been her roommate at Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls before Clary was expelled. They'd known each other for years, had been almost as close as sisters. Yet now Isabelle had started dating her other best friend - Simon and Clary started dating Alec, her brother, things had grown awkward between them.

It was clear that Isabelle was infatuated with Simon, constantly asking Clary for advice about what he liked and didn't like. Simon and Isabelle were so different, sharing no common interests whatsoever, that it was really Clary's advice sustaining the relationship. Sadly, Clary couldn't do the same with Isabelle for Alec seeing how they hadn't spoken to each other in months. And that's where things got awkward...

Clary couldn't deal with another session of telling Isabelle about Simon's favourites things to do, tutoring her tediously day after day. She was actually surprised Isabelle had managed to keep the relationship going, if you could call it that, Simon always seemed disinterested, as if he liked someone else...

If she were honest, Clary felt sorry for Isabelle - unrequited love sucked, something Clary had come to experience today. That was why she really didn't have the strength to comfort Isabelle today, not when she was so broken herself and by Isabelle's brother, no less.

"I'm sorry Izzy. I can't. Your brother is being an ass today," Clary muttered. She didn't normally bring up Alec, it was a sure fire way to bring the conversation to an awkward silence, but she felt it needed to be said. She wasn't in a chatty mood anyway.

_"Tell me something I don't know. But Clary I really need you to..."_

"Bye Iz," Clary said softly, abruptly ending the call. She felt bad because Izzy had sounded so desperate and almost...sad. She would have to talk to Simon about it when she felt better and not so broken. It seemed he had some explaining to do. _Look who's the pot calling the kettle black_, she thought before turning back to Magnus.

"More drama?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clary sighed, her eyes tearing up slightly. She suddenly found herself engulfed in a hug. He swamped her with his warm, tall body, smelling sweetly of sandalwood and she found herself cuddling into his chest, even if he was extremely boney, almost dangerously skinny.

She smiled at the revelation that she had miraculously found herself with a new friend, a kind, caring and generous friend. The kind of friend that she could rely on. The kind of friend that was very rare. She would do anything to protect this friendship because, sadly, she thought of how few other friends like him she actually had left.

And she realised she had none.

* * *

**So in this chapter we hear about some of the other characters. It's kind of hard bringing Izzy and Jace into the story since they go to different schools so I'm going to have to use Clary and I've worked out how to do Izzy but I'm struggling with Jace. Do we want him to play a major role in this story? Tell me in a review. I'm sorry for the excessive Clary-ness in this chapter but in a way we see a caring side of Magnus as well so I hoped you thought it was ok...**

**And Will's here as well because I just love him. :3 Does this mean I have to change it to a crossover fic? I really can't be assed. That's right, I'm so lazy I can't be bothered to press a button. :D**


	8. The Politics of Popularity

**Bonjour! Sorry if this seems rushed or not up to my usua. 'standard'. I wanted to update before I go on holiday so I'm in the airport using expensive wifi. 3 guesses as to where I'm going. :) I would appreciate if you could review so that when I come back and I'm all sad, coming down from my holiday high, I'll have something to smile about. :) Thanks to all those who have reviewed so far. :D**

**I don't own it no matter how much I wish to own Alec. *sigh***

* * *

_"Popularity was fickle and elusive, like trying to catch fireflies in a jar. You were either born with it or relegated to wallflower status according to your mysterious and unknowable workings of the universe_." ― Melissa de la Cruz

* * *

"So you've finally decided to grace me with your..." Aline broke off, peering at Alec. He was slouched against the wall next to the door, his eyes half closed and a happy, almost sated smile on his lips. She moved towards him until she could feel his breath tickling her face, reeking of alcohol. _Drunk. Again._

He immediately lurched towards her, almost tripping right into her arms before righting himself. Sighing, she cautiously glanced around, hoping that none of her neighbours noticed his drunken appearance. None of her family were in, she always made sure of that whenever Alec came over, but the neighbours were notorious for their curiosity. Mr and Mrs. Aldertree, her next door neighbours, especially so. Although she didn't know about her other neighbours. They'd just moved in and were extremely quiet, not really answering the door or emerging from the house at all. Naturally, this was the gossip of the street and would probably be so for a long time. Aline rolled her eyes at the thought.

She locked her arm around Alec's, heaving him through the doorway before anyone actually did see them. _My God_, she thought sadly, _they wouldn't stop talking about it for years. It would be the talk if the century._

Not much happened on Princewater Street. Not much at all.

Alec was mumbling something unintelligible about taxi drivers and bananas as she steered him towards the bedroom, keeping him supported in the fear that he may collapse if left on his own for one moment. Finally, she unceremoniously dumped him on the silk, turquoise sheets of her queen sized bed where he sprawled on his back.

She sighed at the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes slightly bloodshot and blurry and his hair even more disheveled than usual, an impressive feat. It really wasn't doing him any favours in convincing her to keep his secret. Although little did he know of that. The fact that he'd turned up late also didn't help. 48 minutes late, according to her clock.

Aline did not like to be kept waiting.

She gingerly sat next to him, edging away as he tried to kiss her neck. She knew neither of them would enjoy that.

"Alec," she sighed and, not wanting to beat around the bush, said: "I know your secret."

"What secret," he slurred, fumbling in his pocket.

"No smoking in my room. My mum would kill me." Alec pouted, lying back on the headboard. _God_, Aline thought, _it's so hard having a serious talk with him when the bastard's drunk._

"You're gay," she said bluntly, enunciating it clearly so that there was no room for misinterpretation.

This seemed to sober him up slightly. His eyed opened wide, his lips parted, presumably to deny this allegation.

"I...I'm..." he stutterered.

Aline shook her head. "There's no use denying it Alec."

He put his head in his hands. "Has it really been that obvious? How the hell did you find out? I only found out today and I was like woah." He blinked at her, a dazed look in his eyes.

"No," she whispered. "I only found out today when I saw you with that new kid, Magnus."

Alec sighed happily, "he was just so...sparkly and pretty." Aline almost laughed at his dreamy, starstruck expression. It quickly vanished, replaced by panic, "Wait, did anyone else see?..."

"No," Aline shook her head slightly at which Alec relaxed slightly, lazily throwing his arm over his eyes.

"But there's...there's nothing even going on between us. I just met the guy. How did you know?"

Aline sighed, wondering whether to tell him about her similar predicament or not. He probably wouldn't remember anyway...

"Let's just say I have an excellent 'gaydar,'" she took in a deep breath before mumbling, "being one myself."

Silence. Maybe he didn't hear...

"You mean, you're a lesbian," he said in an overly dramatic hushed tone, his mouth gaping open, his eyes wide and shocked.

Aline rolled her eyes. "Yes Captain Obvious," she said stiffly. An awkward silence filled the room. Aline shifted slightly, getting up and looking out the window. The bleak row of grey houses glared back at her accusingly. She sighed inwardly at the usual sight. Nothing ever changed in her small, average suburban neighbourhood. Everything and everyone stayed the same; rigid in their prim and proper ways. Princewater street did not live up to it's name, mostly since it was, nor ever has been, anywhere near near a body of water except the murky puddles that formed on the pavements when it rained, as was often. Neither was the street notorious or fit for royalty in any way. It wasn't like Aline lived in squalor but neither did she live rolling in ridiculous wealth. She was just...entirely average.

That was why she always promised herself that one day she would break free. One day she would be adored, have anything she desired. She would live in a huge mansion with Helen, a humongous white building set upon luscious, rolling hills. Everyone would know her name: "Aline Penhallow", lit up in dazzling lights. That's all she wanted though: to be noticed, to be remembered. But this desire was coupled with sour pessimism, making it near impossible for her to do anything to set this dream in motion. It was an internal battle: her impossible fantasies against that inner voice that told her bluntly that there was no way in hell any of that was ever going to happen. For now, she would bask in her small slice of adoration: being popular, a weak alternative to the real thing but an alternative nonetheless.

"Pleeeease don't tell anyone," Alec begged, sounding like a whiny little kid and looking like one too as he pouted adorably.

Aline turned back to look out the window, not able to face his eyes.

"I won't," she whispered faintly.

Alec seemed content with this answer, shutting his eyes as he lay on the bed. "So...what do we do now?" he asked after a moment.

Aline turned away from the dreary sight through the window, smiling wickedly. It was, after all, her forte: scheming and manipulating.

"Don't worry. I have a plan." _Whether you'll like it or not is up for debate_, she added silently.

* * *

"So, are you seeing Izzy soon?" asked Clary, trying in vain to find out what was going on with their relationship in a subtle way. Or not so subtle apparently as Simon glared into the distance.

They were currently walking through the pelting rain, having agreed to go back to Magnus' place when Clary found herself without a ride back home. Alec obviously wasn't in a charitable mood. _Asshole_, thought Magnus, not for the first time. They had also been joined by Simon, Clary's best friend, who Magnus had met at lunch.

"I don't know. Maybe," Simon muttered vaguely, shrugging his shoulders.

When Magnus thought about it, his first impressions on meeting Simon were: cool, uninviting, closed off. He had barely even looked up from his conversation with the girl next to him to acknowledge Magnus' presence. So Magnus had assumed the worst. He had presumed that this so called Simon would be like everyone else on the popular table: some scumbag womaniser with a low IQ who's primary thoughts were towards getting women and alcohol or, at a stretch, both. How he hated people like that.

This illusion was shattered when Simon leaned over towards them saying, "sorry, I didn't see you there. Lost my glasses," he pointed at his chocolate brown eyes. And thrust a hand towards Magnus blindly. That's when Clary whispered in his ear, "he wears vests, has a room plastered in Star Wars posters and is actually a really funny and sweet guy." It was as if she knew that Magnus had presumed the worse and he felt really guilty. _Never trust stereotypes_, he thought, realising that he actually liked Simon a lot after just a few minutes talking to him.

"Simon, what the hell is going in between you two?" Clary asked slightly exasperatedly. "If you mess with her I swear on the angel I will..." Clary broke off, trying to think of a suitable threat whilst Simon shrunk away meekly.

"Magnus where are we headed?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Princewater Street," Magnus replied, narrowly avoiding a puddle in the hole-ridden pavement. "Should be there in about five minutes," he added, trying to diffuse the tense silence that had befallen them.

They must have looked rather a comical sight: all huddled together under the canary yellow umbrella. It was a small at best umbrella, designed for easy handbag storage. So to fit one lanky teenager, an over 6 foot giant and a small red head who barely came up to said giant's shoulder was an impressive feat. But in fact, it wasn't a feat at all as the umbrella wasn't doing its job at all. They might as well have been holding a small leaf above their heads for all the good it did. Magnus was thoroughly soaked. He didn't really care though, not when he was in the company of his new friends.

Clary and Magnus had been inseparable for pretty much the rest of the day, except for when they were in class as they didn't share any classes. She had even invited him to sit with her at lunch: a great honour apparently that was not bestowed on many. From the hour he spent observing the workings of Alicante Comprehensive, or 'Prison' as the students so originally named it, it became clear that there was a stringent social hierarchy. Clary was clearly part of the top. He definitely wasn't. In fact, the longer he spent on the cliché 'popular' table, the more uncomfortable he felt.

It wasn't so much that they were openly hostile towards him. He probably would have preferred that instead of the sugary sweet conversation, masking venomous undercurrents. He pretended to be oblivious to the awkward, shocked silence when he arrived with Clary at the table. He pretended to be oblivious to the poisonous glares shot his way and the thinly veiled animosity towards him. He pretended to be oblivious to the whispering and pointed stares. Pretending to be oblivious was a familiar hobby to him by now.

It was clear, however, by the end of the long, long hour that he wouldn't be graced with this prestigious honour again, not that he really cared. He had Clary and maybe Simon, more than he would have expected on his first day. And that was enough.

She had introduced him to everyone on the table, much to everyone's annoyance which Clary remained oblivious to. That was not a hobby, just an unfortunate trait which allowed jerks like Alec to take advantage of her. Magnus was surprised at the rush of protective feelings he felt for Clary. She was just so fragile and innocent, so easily broken, unlike Magnus who was hardened from years of 'practice'.

There had been about 15 people sitting at the table but Magnus had forgotten most of the names. The only two that stuck in his mind were Jonathan Morgenstern and Sebastian Verlac. He recognised Jonathan as the boy with blonde hair so white it was almost unnatural and deep, brown eyes who had called him "glitter boy" earlier in the day and pushed him. _Better watch out for him_, he'd thought at the time. He hadn't been surprised when Simon had informed him that they were the two most popular bullies in school and Alec's best friends or 'evil cronies' as he had so lovingly dubbed them. Magnus had been rather surprised when he discovered that Jonathan was Clary's sister though; they neither looked nor acted alike in any way. It was part of the reason they were going back to Magnus' instead of Clary's, although he didn't let on. Magnus wanted to avoid Jonathan and Sebastian at all costs which was also partly due to him being subjected to a torturous hour of having their searing gazes on him, making his skin crawl with apprehension. He wanted nothing more to leave and never return the so called 'popular table', which he planned on doing.

"Princewater Street? That's where Aline lives." Clary looked a little subdued having said this.

"Aline?" Magnus asked as he steered them down yet another street with dull, grey housing. The rain continued to pound around them relentlessly and Magnus quickened his pace slightly, eager to get home.

"Yeah, you were sitting opposite her at lunch. Tall, dark haired, pretty, wears skimpy lace underwear. The school slut,"she added the last part half under her breath, a resentful expression twisting her pretty face. Simon snorted, wholeheartedly agreeing.

Magnus raised his eyebrows at this sudden bitter side of Clary. Now that he thought about it, he was sure that someone with short, black hair had been looking at him intently. He had been slightly unnerved but had forgotten about it until now.

"I remember now," Magnus said. He looked up to see that they had finally reached his road, a miraculous feat considering his awful navigation skills. It didn't help that all of the streets in Alicante seemed to merge into one, especially in the rain which seemed to bleach everything of colour, leaving everything a drab, murky grey: the primary colour of Alicante, it seemed.

"Aline...Penhallow is it?" Clary nodded, squinting slightly through the fog. Magnus wrinkled his nose, "I didn't really like..."

"Hey, look at those two!" Simon cut in, nodding his head towards two figures in front of them that stood in the front garden of the house neighbouring Magnus'.

A tall, black haired boy was leaning against a motorbike. He was absolutely drenched and Magnus couldn't help drooling at the way his white shirt was almost see through and clung to his toned abs deliciously. Too bad he seemed...occupied with an equally drenched and dark haired girl who was kissing him passionately.

He looked painfully familiar.

Maybe they'd met before?

"Is that?..." Simon began in a hushed whisper.

The couple broke apart when they realised they had an audience and the black haired motorcyclist turned to look at their spectators with wide eyes. Wide, blue eyes. Magnus gasped, suddenly remembering when he had seen the eyes before. He had seen them blinking up at him from behind a black, glossy piano. Now, they were just as intense, seeming to pierce him with just one glance. Magnus felt his thoughts beginning to scatter from this brief moment of eye contact.

_So this is..._

"Alec?" Clary gasped.

_Will._

_Wait, what?_

* * *

**Drunk Alec is hard to write. Especially when I'm trying to get him to have a serious conversation with Aline. It doesn't help that I've never been drunk... So sorry about that. :/**

**Anyway, I left it on a cliffy because, well, because I'm evil like that and it wouldn't be me if I didn't leave it on a cliffhanger. :) Review? :D Au revoir!**


	9. A kiss with a fist

**Sorry about this chapter. It was going to be much longer. And I mean way longer. But then it was starting to go over 4000 words and I decided to cut it. I could either go for incredibly long or incredibly short. I took the latter, meaner option... But the next chapter is worth waiting for. Really, it is. I think...I hope...*glances around nervously*.**

**Thank you for your reviews. They made me happy when I came back from holiday and had to face my exam results. :O An envelope has never looked so ominous. It's all good though. :)**** Keep it up. :) **

**I don't any of this and the quote this week isn't actually a quote but my own, individual take on an old saying. At least, I think its old... Oh and the title is from Kiss with a fist by Florence and the Machine. **

* * *

_A kiss and a punch it's the first of the month._

* * *

Everything happened so quickly then.

Magnus didn't even have a luxurious moment to wallow in his confusion. _Well, fuck_, was all he could think before a vibrant whirlwind of red and black streaked across the edge of his vision.

Clary.

She stormed over to the couple, somehow managing to look menacing and make them cower away despite her considerably smaller size. Her face glowed an angry red, her green eyes venomous as she extended an imperious hand.

Cold, harsh slaps broke the frigid air; one following not long after the other. They resounded as loud as gun shots in the stagnant silence. Both Aline and Alec put hands to their stinging cheeks simultaneously at which Magnus felt a small surge of pride for the little redhead. _Fragile my ass_, he thought as he remembered his unnecessary urge to protect the delicate, little red head.

She was shouting and shoving them away from her.

"Fucking bastard! Stupid little slut!" The fair, rosy lips twisted into ugly, deformed shapes around the accusations. Alec stumbled away from her, holding his hands up in defence. Aline remained silent, an unreadable expression on her face.

Then, before Magnus could even move, Clary was suddenly swiftly swinging herself up onto the sleek, black motorbike, perching dangerously on it. Her tiny bird like body looked unnatural on the humongous machine, out of place. Magnus watched as she violently kicked the bike to life and the black beast let out a deep, guttural rumble. Evidently the many times she had been behind Alec when he did the same thing had paid off; she clearly knew what she was doing. Sort of.

They were all frozen in shock, not moving an inch to stop her dramatic exit. She wobbled for a moment uncertainly, marring the effect slightly and Magnus wondered if she might fall off. But she gritted her teeth in determination and the bike lurched away from them just as she flipped Alec a final parting gesture.

Then she was riding in to the distance, her hair streaming like a river of blood behind her.

They all stood in a confused huddle. Aline was yelling. She ran a few pathetic steps in pursuit of the bike before meekly giving up. Strangely enough, Alec had made no move to stop Clary. Magnus was too overwhelmed to wonder about that as the feelings overrode his body. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what to feel. Awe? Confusion? Shock? Respect? Pride? Disgust? Rage? Yes, definitely rage as he turned to the black haired chaos that stood a few feet away from him.

He was surprised to find that Alec was laughing, despite the fact that his motorbike had just been driven away. It didn't seem like it would return any time soon either - not in one piece anyway. Magnus furrowed his eyebrows, a little bit annoyed that the asshole was laughing at this disaster. His fingers twitched, wondering if he should give Alec another dose of what Clary had so nicely delivered. One thing was certain: the girl could hit. Alec's cheek was a smouldering scarlet, shining wickedly against his white skin. _Not a good idea_, Magnus thought. _Not on your first day..._

"What are _you_ laughing about?" Magnus asked, trying to inject as much venom as possible on the you. He was extremely irritated that Alec then began to laugh even more. _Technically, we're not at school anymore..._he thought for a moment.

It was an unnatural, high laugh, verging on hysterical. It wasn't particularly happy, quite bitter and twisted actually. A laugh at other people's misfortune. The worst kind. Magnus felt his fists clench. _Don't do it_, he reminded himself, grinding his teeth. He stepped towards the boy: _Alec_, he thought with a sneer, and glared at him. Unfocused, watery blue eyes met gold. Alec continued to laugh. _Don't. Do. It. Not. Worth. It._

Simon was yelling something at Aline and shewas returning the favour; shouting something about how her brother was going to kill her. Magnus didn't bother pondering over this for too long, narrowing his gaze at Alec and trying to hate and not admire. It was a difficult task. The rain still poured around them. Rain just made everything twice as silky and delicious. Rain was always against him, it seemed to Magnus. It was battling with the primal part of him that desperately wanted to punch Alec though. At that point, it was a tie. In fact, he almost had his emotions in check completely, was even going to walk away from their big mess.

"That's not...even my bike," Alec managed to gasp, clutching his sides and breathing heavily.

Maybe it was the superior, cocky glint in his eyes. Maybe it was the annoying, unhumorous laugh. Maybe Magnus had just damn well come to the end of his tether.

But that's when Magnus punched him.

* * *

_What did I do to you?_ was Alec's only thought as he felt an iron fist connect with his face and pain bloomed in his already aching cheek. Then: _damn_.

To make it worse, this was joined with several other kicks and punches from a slightly smaller person it seemed. They had less power but were well placed, leaving him groaning and consumed by pain.

"Ouch," he managed to choke out before he felt the unrelenting surface of the concrete rise up to meet him. _Double_ ouch. His vision blurred, murky voices could be heard in the background.

"What did you do that for?!"

"...Bastard had it coming..."

"Shit...parents...your house...closer..."

Long, thin arms were hoisting him up, dragging him away somewhere. Alec didn't have the strength to fight. His thoughts and feelings jumbled together, buzzing around his head.

Clary's face merged with Aline's. He hadn't meant to kiss her. In fact, he was entirely innocent in this situation - or so he believed. People always seemed to get the wrong idea though. Aline had just run up to him when he was leaving, smashing her lips against his. He hadn't even seen Clary. The next thing: slap and a huge, boiling mess of shit. If this was part of Aline's plan, it wasn't working very well. Still, he had to go with it. He supposed he could have pushed her away but he had to do what she wanted now. She knew his secret. She had power over him and Alec was trapped like a dainty little butterfly under a pin, feebly fluttering his wings for escape to find that there wasn't one.

Alec groaned. His head was spinning, everything was. He just wanted to stop thinking and feeling. He wanted to be numb, like when he drank alcohol. _Being knocked out is nothing like they say it is_, he thought - since he presumed he was, unconscious that is. Why else would he fall to the ground, after all? But he had been expecting the quiet darkness to swallow him whole, to take him away. Yet it remained stubbornly out of reach, just slightly evading him. _And where are all the stars? There's always stars._

But instead, as the tendrils of blackness finally curled at the edges of his vision, he saw swirling gold/green eyes. They were staring at him intently. Alec didn't like their expression: a mix of disapproval and dislike, maybe even hate. He found himself wanting to take it away, make them smile. Alec almost snorted in his delirious state. _Eyes smile? They can't._

_Oh, but these ones can..._

Then nothing. Alec was swiftly sucked into an endless black void, taking him away from his confused thoughts. Peace. At last.

* * *

***smiles sheepishly*. Yeah... I know. Short. :( **

**By the way, if anyone's interested do any of you have any ideas for a cover for this fic? I'm not really an artist so I would appreciate some help. I dunno what it is at the moment...some random picture. But if anyone has anything they would like to put forward, just put it in a review or PM me. :D**

**Review? :D**


	10. What are the chances?

**Thank you, as always, to those who review, fav, alert and all that jazz. Keep it up. :) **

**So, you know if I said to any of you that I planned this? I didn't. What I planned is in the next chapter. :/ This...well, it...*shrugs* I dunno where it came from...but then most of my stories end up like that. I try to plan...really, I do but then...shit happens and it takes a completely different direction. Sigh. Anyway, I'm going to try and cut these ANs shorter in the next chapters since I feel I ramble too much sometimes...what do you think?**

**I owns nothing.**

* * *

_Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humour, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible."_ - Lisa Kleypas

* * *

As it turned out, the bike Clary stole belonged to Aline's brother. _He will not be pleased_, thought Magnus with a chuckle as he stepped into the steaming hot shower. He sighed as the soothing torrent of water hit his back. Goosebumps dotted his skin from the sudden change in temperature, having spent a good part of an hour out in the relentless rain. He found himself wondering if Alec was cold but quickly shut that thought away when the jets started to pound at his aching muscles. As he felt himself relax he wondered, not for the first time, why he felt so confused when it came to Alec Lightwood.

He supposed it had all stemmed from the fact that he originally thought Alec was Will. In fact, that was one of the problems he had to face tomorrow - other than dealing with the repercussions of today. Magnus was worried what would happen if Clary tried to get him to talk to Will or something. He could imagine the awkward scene where Will wouldn't know who he was and Clary would be standing there, looking at him with those confused green eyes. And what could he say?

_"Well actually, it was your player, not to mention straight, ex-boyfriend playing the piano who I sort of drooled over and had a very cute conversation with. He's an ass isn't he? Nice to meet you Will, by the way."_

That would _not_ work. Magnus would either have to find some way to talk to Will before awkwardness ensued or hope that Will took an extremely long leave of absence from school so that Clary would somehow forget. The latter was sort of leaving it up to fate though which almost always had different ideas...Magnus sighed. G_uess I'm talking to Will tomorrow_. Really, black hair, blue-eyed wasn't that common a combination was it? It also happened to be Magnus' favourite. He was putty to those blue eyes. So what are the chances that two similar looking boys of that rare combination would both go to the same school? _With my luck, a high chance. Anything to screw with me_, he thought bitterly, not for the first time wanting to stick two fingers up to whoever up there had it in for him.

He supposed the confusion had a lot to do with the eyes. Magnus was struggling to fathom how those sweet, intense eyes above the glistening piano could so quickly turn glazed and bland. How could that broken shell of a person have once seemed so full of passion and beauty to Magnus? In short, how could someone be filled with so many contradictions, so captivating and so disappointing at the same time?

Alec was an ever changing person. He had several sides, which all clashed with each other. And everyone saw a different side. Magnus had seen two sides of Alec, God forbid he ever saw more.

Maybe that was it. Maybe that was why Magnus had punched him. Because Alec wasn't the person he had first met. And it had filled Magnus with confusion and disappointment and then anger that this person could evoke these emotions when Magnus hadn't even known his fucking name a few moments ago.

And what chaos he associated with that name. _Alec_: the blue-eyed chaos.

Magnus sighed and grabbed the sandalwood body wash, trying to shut off all thoughts of those blue eyes and failing miserably.

* * *

He awoke unnerved.

And to pain. He didn't mind the pain as much though since he could deal with it. The pain was familiar, an old friend. That's not saying it didn't hurt. It fucking did, like a hangover but ten times worse. Throbbing, pounding, aching. And not just in his head. He wondered idly for a moment if he'd been run over by a truck.

At least with that he knew where he stood... or lay because he was lying down...on a bed, a really soft, warm bed. _Where the hell am I? w_ondered Alec, because for some reason he knew that he hadn't fallen asleep at Aline's. Actually, he remembered leaving and going outside. It was raining. A lot. That didn't help in remembering what had happened to him though - bloody rain.

He supposed the easiest solution to this problem was to open his eyes and find out, but for some reason he didn't want to, scared of what he might find. Instead, he brought a hand to his face, feeling some half melted ice on his stinging cheek which he quickly removed and placing it on what he assumed was a bed side table before continuing the blind exploration of his face. His nose was smothered in a tissue and he discovered not long after why. A crusty trail of dried up blood could be felt underneath it.

_What the_... And then he remembered it: the blazing, almost feline, eyes burning into his, followed by the heavy blow to his face. He didn't know which one hurt most; the eyes or the fist?

And why had that happened? Because he'd been kissed. Yes, now he remembered. Clary had been livid, striking him like lightning. It was a good thing she hadn't found out about all the other...stuff, Alec thought with a shudder. But what that didn't explain was why Magnus was so pissed. _I've spoken to him once and now he's randomly punching me in the face? _Alec thought incredulously. It just didn't make sense. There must be some other reason... In fact, Alec remembered wondering why those eyes looked so disappointed and hateful towards him. _It always comes back to the eyes, doesn't it._ Alec pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Magnus wasn't here now so why worry about some crazy new kid?

After several minutes, he blearily blinked open his eyes. For a moment all he could stare at was the blank, white ceiling above him. Immediately, he knew this wasn't his own ceiling from the unblemished appearance. There were no damp patches or mould nestling in the corners. Equally, it wasn't Aline's gold painted ceiling or Clary's which was adorned in glow in the dark stars from her childhood. No, this was a foreign, plain ceiling which seemed to be glaring at him accusingly as if to say _you got yourself in this shit. _Alec had had that foreign, glaring ceiling one too many times, often accompanied with the same woozy head.

Groaning, Alec turned his head to the side to inspect the surroundings. He found to the right a small wooden desk overflowing with materials. Scraps of fabric of a multitude of colours and textures, numerous wads of paper with scrawled designs and scribbles covering them, an assortment of coloured pencils and pens and, peeking out in the middle of all this chaos, a tarnished silver sewing machine, covered the desk. A fashion designer? It appeared so from the mannequin that slouched next to the worn desk. It was slightly make shift, obviously not shop bought from the patchy material and precarious posture and was covered in what appeared to be a half finished, emerald green dress. Shoved in a dimly lit corner was a small book shelf with a few sparse books. Alec couldn't help feeling that this was more of a token gesture than a well used feature.

He painfully and slowly tilted his head to the other side where he found a glittery, purple wardrobe which, despite its generous size, had an overflow of brightly coloured clothes which were strewn messily all over the floor. A matching vanity was perched precariously next to it and that too had every remaining space filled with a various assortment of make-up. It seemed, however, that the inhabitant had at least attempted to organise it. The pots were roughly lined up in colour order. Alec couldn't say as much for the rest of the room.

He blinked dazedly. It was all so overwhelming. The room wasn't particularly big and was completely crowded. Everything seemed to be haphazardly thrown into the nearest space with no thought whatsoever. And it was all so bright. With all the furniture, Alec had barely noticed that the walls were a very rare rainbow colour. He didn't even know how the person managed to do it or why they even bothered. It was a wall and it probably took them hours, swirling the different mismatch of colours together so that they blended harmoniously. Alec could never understand the need to do things like that. His walls were the dull cream that they were originally painted, slightly chipped and miles away from the caredully tended chaos that adorned this room. Everything was a riot of colour, even the soft sheets beneath his fingers were a cheerful, canary yellow.

It really should have clashed: the mismatch of colours. Somehow, it worked though, despite the contradictions. The room was somehow kind of...beautiful. It obviously said a lot about the inhabitant: dissonantly harmonious. Yes, Alec rather liked that in a quirky way.

* * *

It was only when the water ran cold and Magnus quickly exited the perilous shower that he realised his problem.

There were no fucking towels.

He stood there for a moment, not believing his incredible misfortune. What are the odds of that happening? He always had plenty of towels so why, oh why, did he run out today?

Then the frantic searching in the cupboards began. He supposed it was denial, _this can not be happening, this cannot be happening, this cannot be happening_.

But no matter how much he repeated it, it wasn't true. It was happening. Magnus couldn't snap his fingers and have the towel magically appear. The world just didn't work like that. The world was a bitch. A bitch that just so happened to be run by chance which seemed to have it in for Magnus. Not a good combination.

Never had the cupboards looked so irritating, full of his limitless supply of products which Magnus wanted to smash in anger for not being a nice fluffy, white towel. There wasn't even a small washcloth in sight. Magnus sighed, wondering what the hell to do. His options were limited and that was putting it generously.

He swivelled around, looking at the pile of sodden clothes that lay in a neglected pile in the corner. Option 1. No way in hell was he putting those back on though. He would just look stupid, going for a shower and then putting soaking wet clothes back on. Not to mention that he would probably need another hot shower from the chill he would get from the clothes. So it wasn't an option at all.

_Unless, there's no-one to notice how stupid I look.._.

Magnus placed his ear to the door tentatively. Silence.

Option 2 - just walk out. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to walk out of his bathroom in the nude but..._He's knocked out. Now quickly get your ass out there, find your kimono and then leave. He never needs to know. _The plan formulated in his mind with Magnus visualising where the silk robe was, hanging on the handle of his wardrobe. He would sneak in there silently, put it on and quickly scuttle away. It would take 5 or 6 steps at the most. No problem.

Still, he hesitated for a second.

_But he'll never know...  
_  
Magnus made up his mind to do it. Reaching for the handle, he winced at the loud click it made. He paused, listening for any sign of disturbance on the other side of the door. There was none. So Magnus decided to just go for it, rip the plaster off, and jerked the door open.

* * *

It had taken Alec a good ten minutes to manage to sit up and shuffle over to the edge of the bed. He was planning on leaving, not wanting to talk to his mysterious saviour, as he was calling whoever it was that had dragged him here.

In his foggy state, he couldn't for the life of him think who it could be. It didn't help that they had absolutely no pictures of themselves, of their family or even their friends. Nothing. Even Alec had a small picture of him and Jace when they were younger, arms linked and smiling at the camera. But this person had... nothing. It was rather odd actually and unnerved Alec. All the more reason to get out as quickly as possible. He guessed he wouldn't be able to thank them for letting him rest here, seeing as he most likely wouldn't be seeing his mysterious saviour again. _What are the chances of that ever happening? _thought Alec. He didn't even know if the person was a girl or a...

A rattle of beads caught Alec's attention. He remembered seeing them hanging above an electric blue door before and immediately jolted his head towards the sound. He would regret that later. But in that moment he didn't regret anything.

_Boy. Naked. Delicious. Naked. Wet. Naked. Fucking. Naked. Hell. Naked. Magnus. Naked. Bane. __Fuck._

And Alec fell off the bed.


	11. Who took your smile away?

**Hello. :) So, I'm really pleased because I got the most number of reviews ever on that last chapter! Woo! Thank you :D I take it you all like naked Magnus...;) In fact, we made it to 69 reviews...When I saw that I started snickering because my mind seems to always be in the gutter at the moment... Blame him.**

**Anyway, you know how I said I had this chapter all planned? Yeah...I lost it. All of it. :( So that's why this chapter's been a bit slow on the update. In fact, I need to sort out an update schedule because I now have 3 multi-chaptered fics on the go... :O Bad idea - especially when I have exams all this year. -.-' I'll work something out though and I'll let you guys know. In the mean time though, go check out my other fics on my profile if you haven't already. :D *insert shameless self-advertising*. **

**Jesus, I said I would shorten these didn't I? Meh. I always do the opposite. Anyway, don't own it blah-di-blah. Yeah, let's just get on with it and cut the shit... **

* * *

_Behind my smile is a hurting heart. _

_Behind my laugh, I'm falling apart. _

_Look closely at me and you will see, _

_The boy I am...isn't me._

* * *

Magnus didn't know what he had been expecting when he had walked out of the bathroom. Ninety-nine percent of him had honestly believed that Alec would be asleep or unconscious. The other one percent was a curious bastard who wanted to see how would he would react. Whatever he had been expecting though, it certainly wasn't...this.

Alec let out what could only be described as an extremely unmanly squeal.

Yes, he squealed.

And before Magnus had the chance to process this sound, Alec had somehow fallen off the bed. A loud thump echoed through the room. _Shit, this'll wake her..._

"Magnus?"

_...up_

He winced as he heard his mother's feeble voice drift up from the living room - right on cue. "What's going on? Is someone else up there?" she asked. Magnus' eyes widened.

"Nothing!" he quickly replied. "Um...Chairman Meow...fell off my bed." Alec looked at him incredulously as if he would have said _dumbass_ if he had the ability to speak. Magnus just shrugged. _I'm not the one who fell off the bed, am I?_ "Do you need anything?" He prayed to God that she would say no.

Silence. She was asleep again and Magnus sighed - half in sadness and half in relief.  
Alec made a sort of strangled choking sound accompanied with a well aimed pillow and Magnus realised he was still naked. He quickly grabbed his kimono.

Once he was mostly clothed in the lime green silk robe, he turned around. Alec was still lying on the floor at the side of the bed, apparently in a state of shock as he hadn't made any effort to move. Magnus frowned before crawling across the bed and peaking over the edge.

"So _you're_ Alexander." He tried to narrow his eyes since he was meant to be angry with Alec. It took a lot of will power though when the accused looked about 6 - trying to hide an adorable blush in his long hair. _It's just another side. Don't be fooled_.

_But is that a..._ Magnus tried not to let his gaze linger on a certain...area of Alec's. He giggled. _So you're straight, really?_

"Like what you saw? Is that why you're hiding at the side of my bed, _Alexander_?" For some reason, Magnus liked the way it curled around his tongue, _Alexander_. He couldn't stop purring it, like a cat.

"It's Alec," the boy ground out, choosing to ignore the previous statement. Magnus did notice that the blush spread to his neck. He wondered idly for a moment if his whole body was blushing bright red, like a tomato. "And you might want to tell me what I'm doing in your bedroom in the first place."

Magnus shifted his eyes uneasily before reaching out a hand. "Just, stand up. It feels weird when I'm talking to you from above whilst you're lying on the floor," _I like it_, he added in his head.

Alec blushed even more - Magnus couldn't imagine the colossal amount of blood surging through his head, it couldn't be healthy - before accepting his hand. Magnus almost gasped at how cold it was, sending little shocks up his arm. They were complete contrasts - Magnus with his perpetually warm and tanned hands against Alec's frigid and ghostly pale skin. They let go almost instantly which made Alec stumble and sway with vertigo. He quickly righted himself though and Magnus shuffled over so that Alec could sit next to him on the queen sized bed. He remained standing though, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly, as if nervous or unsure. Magnus raised an eyebrow. _Awkward? Alec?_ The boy seemed to take this as a challenge though because he scowled and perched tentatively on the edge, still keeping his distance from Magnus though.

"You haven't answered my question. What am I doing here?"

Magnus sighed. "Aline's parents were back home so she told me to take you to the closest place - my house - to avoid trouble. I only live three doors down." He gestured out the window absentmindedly to the murky grey sky that was just beginning to darken outside.

"So, she thought that it would be best for the person who _punched_ me to _rescue_ me?" Alec asked, a little incredulously. He obviously regretted his choice of words though, making it seem like he was a damsel in distress and Magnus his knight in shining armour. He blushed, at which Magnus smirked. He rather liked this game - making Alec blush. Although there wasn't really any effort needed. Alec did it entirely of his own accord most of the time.

"Well, yes. It wasn't really much of a choice. It was either that or leave you lying on the pavement, so I carried you back. I wouldn't exactly call it _rescuing_." Magnus rolled his eyes.  
"You carried me all the way back here?" Alec raised his eyebrows.  
Magnus looked a little bashful. "No. Simon helped me. Although he was all in favour of leaving you lying abandoned in the rain. I said he'd had his fair share of beating you up though - more than me anyway."

Alec made an indignant noise. "Simon - the _rat_ boy beat me up?"

Magnus smiled at Alec's disbelief. "Disappointed you were defeated by spaghetti muscles asshole? You deserved it. No-one tried to stop him and you were already down. Too weak to fight back. Why d'you call him rat boy anyway?"

Alec shrugged. "Don't you think he has a remarkable resemblance to a little brown rat?"

Magnus tried to look indignant. "That's horrible!" he said. It wasn't so much...lying. It was a horrible name, no matter how much Magnus _could_ see the resemblance.

"I didn't come up with the name," Alec mumbled.

"Oh, so you just go along with whatever those evil dick heads Sebastian and, what was his name, Jack do?"

Alec's cheeks were aflame - with anger rather than mortification this time. "Jon." There was a small pause where Alec shifted uncomfortably. "When did you become such an expert on how the school runs anyway? You've been here one bloody day and already you're accusing me of being an asshole."

"Clary got me up to speed. And it's the truth, isn't it?"

To his surprise, Alec sputtered for a minute before glaring at Magnus. He didn't really bother trying to deny it but went on to say, "Aline kissed me. I didn't do anything."

An incredulous snort escaped Magnus' lips. "I somehow find it hard to believe that you're completely innocent. Why were you at Aline's house in the first place hmm? My guess is it wasn't a study session or a friendly catch up. You don't look like the type."

Alec's fingers gripped the sheets, the knuckles straining over the skin. He opened and closed his mouth, looking like a lost goldfish. Magnus had him cornered because he couldn't deny what the original intention of the visit had been, without proving Magnus right. Still, he was angry at the insinuation - _you don't look like the type._ That hurt. It was true. But Magnus didn't know him. And he hated that he thought he did, hated that Magnus thought he was that shallow, that he could see right through him. It made him feel vulnerable, paper thin.

"And what _type_ do I look like?" he spat.

Magnus looked at Alec, as if he were mulling it over, inspecting him. He was beautiful - in that rugged and mussed, sexy bed head way. His charcoal black hair was stuck up crazily from where he had been lying in the pillow. Somehow, it looked cute though. And those eyes. Always so deceivingly innocent, luring you in.

"The type that will break your heart by just one look. And that you wouldn't care one bit." His voice was soft. So soft, that Alec had to make sure he had spoken at all. Magnus was gazing, almost forlornly, out of the window at the bleak outside, not meeting Alec's eyes. After a while, he turned towards him, as if he were surprised that Alec wasn't shocked, that he didn't try to defend himself. _But why would I do that? I know what I am_, Alec thought miserably.

"And then you play the piano..." Magnus continued, as if he hadn't stopped speaking. He was still speaking softly, giving the impression that he wasn't thinking about the words as he lazily drew patterns on the sheets. "You're really good." Alec shook his head, blushing. "You are, Alec," Magnus said earnestly. "It's obvious you care. Don't give me any if that "I don't care about anything shit". Why don't you tell anyone? Clary denied that you played the piano at all." Magnus finally turned towards Alec, piercing him with his gaze like he were searching the baby blues for answers.

It was Alec's turn to look away. "I...I don't know," he admitted. "You're one of the only two people who have ever heard me play. It's my thing, my secret. I don't...like sharing it."

He gave Magnus a sheepish smile, a rarity.

"Who else has heard you play?" Magnus asked. He didn't know why he suddenly decided to have a conversation with Alec. Magnus knew that he really should be mad at him but he found him rather confusing. He liked working people out, knowing their little quirks and personality traits. Alec had many little quirks it seemed, countless little twists and turns and contradictions which Magnus couldn't wrap his head around yet. He would try though.

A dark shadow crossed Alec's face. He pursed his lips, making it clear that he didn't want to say who else he had played for before changing the subject. "Why don't you have any pictures?"

Magnus blinked, startled at the sudden change in conversation. "What?"

"You have no photos in your room. Why?"

Now it was Magnus' turn to feel uncomfortable. "Don't try to change the subject. Until you answer my question, I won't answer yours." Magnus averted his eyes nervously. Alec didn't say anything. They both didn't want to answer those questions, seemingly small and innocent to an outsider but astronomically huge to themselves. And the silence stretched before them.

Just as Alec was about to break it and claim that he "should be going", Magnus spoke up.  
"So...are you a jock?" He leaned back against the headboard until he was halfway reclined. Alec shuffled uneasily, still perched uncertainly at the edge of the bed.

"What?" he spluttered, confused at the direction the conversation was going.

Magnus crossed his long legs. "Well, you have the muscly build so I just presumed you would be a jock." He was right. Whereas Magnus was tall and thin - very willowy and elegant, Alec was all sharp ridges and defined muscles - not something you achieved without dedicating a lot of time to exercise.

Alec decided just to go along with it. "You mean an athlete?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" Magnus reached across to the cluttered bedside table and grabbed a pink, glittery nail file.

"Well, yes but jock just sounds so American," said Alec as his eyes followed Magnus' lazy but practiced movements.

"I am American." Magnus wrinkled his nose a bit, remembering home.

"Really? I didn't notice," Alec muttered sarcastically.

"Oh, so you're one of those stuck up pricks who is all "jolly good show." Magnus put on a fake English accent which was downright awful and Alec smiled slightly, trying to repress it but failing miserably.

"Yes, I am," Alec replied haughtily and lifting his nose up.

Magnus tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What?" asked Alec, not liking the way Magnus was peering intently into his face, as if unearthing all of his secrets which he liked to keep hidden.

"You're so full of contradictions Alec. I'm not sure which one's real." And Alec looked down at his shoes. They were old, worn converse - black, like the rest of his wardrobe with frayed laces. They looked out of place. Alec got the feeling that he was out of place too. Magnus' room was all full of colours and warmth and feeling and...life - everything he wasn't. He needed to leave.

"You hardly know me," he said brusquely. "It's a little early to be making assumptions about my character." Alec stood up, one hand leaning against the mattress to steady him as his head spun. He turned towards Magnus who had paused his nail filing and was looking at him confusedly. "But to answer your question, no, I hate sport." Magnus raised his eyebrows, finding that hard to believe. Alec was already at the door though.

"Where are you going?" asked Magnus, quickly scrambling up from the bed.

Alec sighed, pausing in the doorway. He couldn't exactly say to Magnus that he kind of wanted to stay, sprawled out on Magnus' canary sheets and just talking - however briefly or bizarrely or about nothing of much use. It was something he hadn't done in a while - just talked and listened without the need for anyone to benefit from the exchange at all. One thing Alec had learned in life: people always wanted something. Nothing comes for free. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been genuinely interested in his life, just for the hell of it, even in the small way that Magnus was. But somehow he got the feeling that if he stayed any longer, Magnus would ask more deceivingly innocuous questions. Alec could already feel himself getting more comfortable and with that came answers. Alec wouldn't give those answers. Not yet.

So he turned to Magnus. "It's late. I have to be getting back."

Magnus looked at the clock. 6:47PM. "Just call your mom..." An almost imperceptible flinch in the corner of his eye,"...or whoever's at home." He amended tactfully. "I'm not sure you're stable enough to walk yet."

_But Magnus, there isn't anyone at home._

Alec shook his head, his tone now cold and clipped as said, "It's fine, really." Magnus shrugged, escorting him down the stairs and opening the door for him. It was so...odd. He felt like he'd invited Alec over for dinner or something when in reality he had dragged him in unconscious after punching him. Alec had him all conflicted.

"Thanks for...letting me rest here." Alec muttered. It was no longer raining but the sun had pretty well set so that the street lamps were casting a warm orange glow over the angles of his face. His blue eyes were specked with orange, making them seem warm and cosy. His cheeks were like little cherries, bright against his milk white comlexion and his breath came in little short puffs of white.

Magnus averted his gaze to the floor

"You're welcome. Sorry for punching you," he said. Alec made a sort of choking noise which Magnus guessed was a contorted chuckle. And soon he was laughing. They were both laughing. Laughing at everything and nothing all at once. Laughing at the mess they'd become. It wasn't a particularly warm laugh, more a sign of comfort, a light in the darkness. I laugh, you laugh.

And then for a moment, they locked eyes and Magnus thought he saw a glimmer of something in Alec's eyes. Something out of place. When Alec reached up and leaned towards him Magnus got the sudden notion that he was going to kiss him.

His heart rate picked up until his heart was hammering in his chest.

And he watched those baby blues loom closer and closer towards him.

Those pink, now unsmiling lips were moving ever nearer towards his.

But as Magnus' eyes widened, Alec blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever daze he had been in. _Or maybe you were just imagining it... He's supposedly 'straight' after all..._

_Yeah right._

Alec tentatively swiped a finger across Magnus' cheek which immediately made it warm and colour. His pale digit came away coated in glitter, glinting in the light.

He held it up in a questioning way. "Oh, it's in my moisturiser," explained Magnus, and Alec smiled knowingly.

He had a sad smile, Magnus realised. Not really a proper smile at all. It was the smile of those who had lost someone. Nobody seemed to smile fully like they used to, it seemed - too much pain - in Magnus' family anyway. Incidentally, his family only consisted of him and his mother. Of course, they did smile on the odd occasion, but it was never the same, never fully there like a patchy, repaired smile. Half a smile actually. The other half was taken by the person they'd lost. Magnus' dad had taken his and wasn't giving it back, not for a long time. And it seemed that Alec was the same way. _Our smiles match_, Magnus thought sadly. _Snap_.

_I wonder what happened, who took his smile..._

"See you tomorrow Magnus," Alec whispered and he nodded, emerging from his thoughts.

"Hey Alec, why do you hate sports?" he suddenly called, just as Alec had begun to turn away. It had just popped into his head and he'd blurted it out, not really thinking about what he was saying.

Alec froze, as if startled by the question and unsure whether to answer. Magnus didn't think he would and was about to say he didn't have to when Alec said it quietly. One word.

"Losing."

It seemed like a petty, stuck-up thing to say - the words of a spoilt rich kid- thought Magnus. But the way he said it wasn't like that at all. "Weren't you ever told that there are no winners and losers, that it's the taking part that matters?" Magnus said, somewhat sarcastically and smiling a little.

"No," Alec shook his head. "Quite the opposite." Alec wasn't smiling. He moved back towards Magnus.

"Everyone loses sometime though Magnus." He sighed and leaned up. Before Magnus knew what he was doing, Alec had placed a light kiss on his cheek. It was barely there, just a small, feathery brush of the lips. But it sent a jolt of nerves up Magnus' spine as he felt Alec's warm, tingling breath fan across his cheek. His own breathing rate picked up rapidly.

And it was over all too soon, until he was sure he'd imagined it. Did he?

Alec was walking away, shoulders hunched and hands deeply pocketed, and Magnus realised that he knew no more about Alec Lightwood than before he talked to him. If anything, he was more confused, with a multitude of unanswered questions running through his mind.

But he was damn well going to find those answers.

* * *

**Ok, I'll be honest with you *takes deep breath*, I really don't like this chapter. It's just...ugh. It doesn't really flow and it's really random what with all the different subject changes. It's confused. It doesn't really know whether it's a fluffy chapter or sad chapter. And to top it all off I haven't had much time to go through it properly. Dialogue isn't one of my strong points though. I'm hoping to get better in the duration of this story, hopefully. Anyway, review to tell me what you think. :)**


	12. Guardian Angel

**Hello. :) Thanks again for all the reviews. We beat the most no. of reviews _again. _:D And thanks to all the guest reviews. I can't reply to you guys, obviously *rolls eyes*, so thanks a lot. :) **

**Anyway, this chapter is really sad. Well, I thought so anyway because I felt so raw after writing it. :( It's a little bit of insight into Alec's family_. _Max is in it. :) In fact, it's mainly all about Max which is the reason for the quote. There really aren't many quotes about Max though. I wish Cassie didn't kill him off. :'(  
**

**I don't own it. *shrugs***

* * *

_"Max," Jace said. "Max, I'm so sorry._

* * *

He had been trembling. When Alec had walked away, he had been trembling and shaking. It wasn't because he was cold. In fact, it was a warm kind of shaking. He felt light, like somehow he'd parted with a minute part of his heavy burden to Magnus; the burden that was his past, his scars, his family. For a moment that was gone. He found it felt quite nice. Free. He almost felt sort of happy. It was strange - not worrying or pretending or thinking. Just being.

And inevitably, the nice fizzy feeling wore off. He was left feeling rather empty.

Mind blank, eyes blind, body numb.

Nothingness.

He wanted more of the tingles. The rest of the world felt rather dull in comparison and Alec couldn't help thinking, _if this is what peck on the cheek does to me? Who knows what a full kiss would do?_ And then, w_hy don't I just do this everyday? What am I so scared of? _

Eventually, things have a way of coming back though. And Alec realised. _Oh yeah..._

_What the fuck did I just do? _

And this was where Alec had to think and worry and feel. Alec didn't like feeling. Feeling hurt; especially when you were alone. He wanted to feel _with_ someone.

So he decided not to go to a cold, empty home like he told Magnus he would. Instead, he did what he always did when he felt empty and incomplete.

He visited his brother.

* * *

"Please Jessie," Alec begged. "I haven't seen him in weeks."

"And who's fault is that?" The nurse crossed her arms, a stern look on her usually kind features. Alec supposed she used to be pretty, with soft brown hair that framed her heart shaped face and sweet chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that were now lined in wrinkles from sleepless nights. Eyes that had seen pretty much everything that no-one wanted to see. It was the sacrifice of the job though, working with those who were locked away, rejected. You saw things you weren't supposed to. You saw the hidden.

Alec sighed. "Mine. I've been...busy." As soon as he heard the words escape his lips he winced. _Too busy to see your own brother. Fucking pathetic._

Jessie clearly thought so too. She snorted, tapping her foot impatiently. "Visiting hours are over Alec. You know what that means. It's not good to ruin his routine." This had happened many times before. Technically, Alec wasn't supposed to be here at all. He wasn't really one to follow rules though. Not anymore.

"I'll buy you two weeks worth of chocolate," the boy said, batting his eyelashes irresistibly. There was a long, stretched out silence whilst the nurse had an internal war with herself. And soon it was Jessie's turn to sigh. _Damn that chocolate weakness._

"Fine," she relented, motioning for him to follow her down the corridor. She probably would have let him in anyway - sans chocolate. Jessie had always been putty to the Lightwood children, giving them whatever they wanted. Alec smiled victoriously as they proceeded down the corridor. He tried to ignore the usual sound of wails he could hear through the walls. _I'm doing it for Max, remember that. _

Alec always felt edgy in this place and this time was no differnet as he glanced at the bland interior. Everything was a clean, sterile white. And it was empty. Nothing could be left to fate or the dangerous hands of the occupants behind the carefully sealed white doors.

There were many names for places like this - cruel and otherwise: loony bin, mental hospital, asylum...the list went on. The most common name was The Institute. They all meant the same thing though really. The only difference was this one was for children. It was a place for parents with children that didn't fit to go to. A place to send the child that doesn't quite think right. Discarded, rejected, abandoned. Like broken toys, they were; hidden on the highest shelves of a musty old shop. Most of them were forgotten by now. _Not Max though_. Alec was determined that Max would not be forgotten. _I'm here Max. Remember that._

Their shoes echoed harshly against the white, laminate floor. And Alec tensed. "How...is he?" he asked hesitantly. Alec never really knew how Max was going to be each time he visited. Sometimes it was like there was nothing broken in him. Other times Alec found it hard to see any part of his brother in there at all. _He's always there. Just hiding, obscured. Remember that._

Alec found himself having to remind himself of a lot of things when visiting Max.

"The same as ever," Jessie replied, a sad note in her voice and Alec's heart sank. _At least he's not getting worse..._ He didn't know what he'd do if Max stopped recognising him, if his whole world was consumed by the monsters and demons of his mind. Alec was just glad for that small sliver of sanity. It was all he had left.

Jessie seemed to notice his change in mood as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "He's still bitching about the crappy food he gets, requesting more comics, being a general diva." Alec laughed. He knew the nurse was sugar coating it; that she wasn't telling him about the nightmares and the panic attacks and the screaming. How Max could scream. Alec had only had to hear it once. He really respected Jessie, having to put up with it constantly. Alec knew that he would just end up in here himself if he had to hear Max scream that much.

"He's getting more and more like Jace by the day," Alec said.

"Yeah. He's a bad influence - that boy." Jessie tutted playfully. Alec knew she didn't really mean it though. She had a small smile on her face and her eyes crinkled softly as she fondly thought of the blonde haired boy. If anything, Alec was the bad influence but Jessie loved all of the Lightwood children - whether permitted to by their parents or not.

"Have you seen him recently? Jace?" she asked suddenly.

Alec looked up, tentative. "No," he said quietly. "Not since..." he trailed off.

Jessie nodded in understanding. She was a very gentle and patient person. More so than Alec's parents had ever been. She had always been more of a mother to Alec than his biological mother had ever been.

"Here we are," the nurse said breezily, breaking the silence that had built up around them. Alec rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he didn't know where his brother's room was. He'd been there enough times. But he knew that Jessie was just trying to make the fact that she _had_ to be there more subtle. It was protocol that Max had to be supervised. Alec swallowed uneasily before knocking twice and gently easing the door open.

"Max? It's me, Alec." He peered into the room, smiling when he saw the little boy sprawled on the floor amongst all of his manga and comic books.

"Alec!" he practically squealed, getting up and running over to his big brother. Today was obviously one of Max's good days.

Alec bent down and hugged him, burying his nose in the boy's unruly black hair. It had been said that Max was the mini version of Alec, with the same pale skin, black hair and blue eyes combo. The only difference was the huge glasses perched precariously on his nose.

"I've missed you," the little boy whispered into Alec's shirt.

"Me too," Alec replied, fighting back his tears. In that moment, with Max's small hands clutching his shirt so tight like they'd never ever let go, Alec could pretend that it was all alright. And when they sat down and Alec read to him his book, not understanding at all why Max liked them so much, Alec could pretend that they were at home and that Max would go to school the next day. Just like everybody else.

In at least one way, the brothers were alike. They both liked to pretend to make up forthat was lost: themselves.

The young boy inevitably started to fall asleep, so Alec scooped him up into his arms. Max was so thin, so small. And Alec tried not to think about the fact that Max went on long stints of refusing to eat. One time it got so bad they had to feed him on drip. Alec had never seen skin so pale. He shuddered, hugging him closer to his body.

It was only when Alec tucked him into bed, placing a feather light kiss to the forehead, that Max spoke again.

"Do you see them Alec? Your wings? They're all blue and shiny. I've never seen _blue_ wings before." Max giggled. "You're part angel Alec. Did you know that?"

Alec sighed, not really knowing what to say. "I didn't know that Max. But you can tell me about it tomorrow, ok? Now we need to go to sleep." He pulled the covers up around Max's chin but the boy whined, stretching out his arms.

"I'll have forgotten by tomorrow. I want to tell you about the shadowhunters and the angels _now_!" His lower lip trembled, his eyes were dewy. Alec quickly wiped away the tears that slipped down the pale pink cheeks, making soothing noises. He didn't want to ruin the sweet night he'd spent with Max with a tantrum so he breathed a sigh of relief when Max settled down slightly.

In fact, he thought that Max was asleep until a pair of wide, questioning eyes opened and a small voice permeated through the room.

"When are we going home Alec?"

Alec stifled a sob. He hated when Max asked this question, hated that he had to lie.

"Soon Maxie. Soon."

The little boy's eyes slipped shut and he smiled softly. "That'll be nice," he whispered. "I've missed mummy and daddy. I haven't seen them in a while" Alec bit back his words.  
_You shouldn't miss them Max. They're not worth it._

Alec wasn't complaining though. Because the truth was he wasn't worth it either. Max was too good for him. He was too good for everyone actually. And that was just who Max was. He missed people when they didn't deserve it, loved them when he shouldn't. It just tended to be overlooked because people couldn't see the good, whole person he was. They couldn't get past what was broken.

Alec didn't say the words though because Max would start asking more questions. Instead, he started to shift so that he could quietly leave the room, when the little boy grabbed his hand. "Stay with me for a while. Please?" he begged in a small, worried voice. "It's so scary. I can see them coming for me. But when you're here...it's ok. I'm safe." Alec nodded, not able to speak, and squeezed his hand.

"I'm here."

_I'm here but I'm sorry I can't say that I'll always be. I'm sorry. For everything, Max. You don't deserve this. You deserve someone better, someone who's there to protect you. Always._

But he didn't say that either.

He would be Max's guardian angel for the night though. God knows the poor boy deserved it.

* * *

Magnus didn't know what he expected Clary to do after Alec broke her heart.

Maybe shout, get angry, throw stuff? That's probably what he would do. Would she cry? Would she sob those terrible heart wrenching sobs whilst clutching his shoulder like it was the only thing tethering her to the world? Oh God, would she look at them with those big, green eyes? And he would turn away, trying to hide that sliver of guilt in his eyes. _It's not my fault. He kissed me._

_Yes, but you gave him the chance to. You let him in. Never let them in._

Magnus knew he shouldn't be worrying about himself and what he'd done. Maybe later, but for now Clary needed a friend. And he hadn't been doing a very good job of it. He'd completely failed actually. It was pretty hard to do when she wasn't there though. She'd been absent from school for a week now.

And Magnus was really starting to worry about what would be left of her.

Would she still be the same? Would she be shattered into a million pieces? Ok, maybe he was pancing, but he really wasn't looking forward to putting her back together. From what he'd seen, Clady was very dependant on Alec. She would be devastated. And Magnus just wanted his friend back. So much. He didn't want a broken shell of a Clary. He wanted the real thing.

So when she stepped out of a sleek, black Land rover (no ride on a motorcycle ride for her anymore), to say that Magnus was surprised when she waved animatedly to him and skipped over for a hug would be an understatement. He had expected her to be broken, like him. But she was...whole. Almost. And it was only when he looked deeper that Magnus saw that Clary Fray was just as good at hiding her emotions as him. Maybe too good.

But then again, Magnus was just as good at seeing those hidden emotions inside of people. Maybe too good. Clary Fray was no exception to this rule. So it was only Magnus who saw the stitches on the smile, holding it in place. They were sown out of invisible thread to everyone else. But to him they were red and bold, clearly stating 'I am fake'. He was the only one who saw the shards poking out beneath the skin, the turbulent emotions hidden behind calm lakes of eyes.

Sometimes he felt like he could see what others could not. He could see the broken in everyone. So naturally, it was only Magnus that saw the heartbreaking glance that Clary sent Alec when she passed him on his bike. He was helping Aline off it, as he now did everyday. Magnus was struggling to see the broken in Alec at this point, blinded by the bastard in him. _How can he stand there and laugh?_ Because Alec was. He was laughing and giggling and teasing with Aline, like nothing ever happened. He didn't even look up. _Fucking bastard. You're not coming anywhere near my cheek again_, thought Magnus bitterly.

But he did get out his thread and stitch on his best smile - for Clary, as he greeted her with a small squeal and a hug.

"How are you?" he asked after she let go.

And the smile slipped. She turned somber for a minute. "I'm not going to talk about it."

Magnus frowned. "I wasn't asking..."

"I know." Another small smile - this time real and sad. Real ones are always sad though, it seems. "But for when you're going to. Don't." And that was that. "So, let's talk about other things." Magnus nodded and they linked arms, the promise sealed, a certain Lightwood forgotten. "You're going to be so excited! I'm planning a party a month from now to celebrate my singleness!" Magnus squealed, immediately beginning to talk animatedly about the party plans. The blue eyes that had been tormenting him for the past week, night and day, disappeared at last.

But you can never forget Alec Lightwood. Not really, no matter how hard you try.  
For once you have found him, he is there forever.

Magnus didn't know this at the time. He was about to find out though.s

* * *

**Hmmm... What did you think? I'm thinking that I have some sort of obsession with describing smiles. The last chapter had a lot of that in as well. :O**

**I wasn't originally going to put that bit with Magnus and Clary in but it was more for the contrast in Alec. Oh well, it's there. And, I did look up mental illnesses, since I don't know anything about them. What Max has will probably be revealed later on but if you see any mistakes or I've, I dunno, offended anyone then I'm sorry. **

**I feel really cruel to poor Max now. Sad times. :(**


	13. The Past Remembers

**Hey guys. :) What can I say? It's been a while. I think most of us writing on FF all have the same excuse: school. This year is even more stressful than ever and I am just exhausted. I'm trying to write another chapter for my three multi-chaptered fics before I go away to New York (that's right, I go next Saturday! So excited! :D I haven't been to America in ages.) I don't think I'll manage it though. At least I finally got this one out. :/**

**Don't own it, never have.**

_"Your past is always your past. Even if you forget it, it remembers you." - Sarah _

* * *

**One week later...**

"So why'd you dump her Alec?" asked Sebastian in between mouthfuls of the school's greasy pizza. Alec grimaced at the grease almost pouring from his lips, finding himself suddenly not hungry as he pushed his nearly untouched lunch away.

He grimaced a little at the question as well, especially since Jonathan - Clary's brother - was sitting opposite him, waiting for his answer. In fact the whole table now looking at him greedily like a pack of wild animals, desperate for some scraps of gossip. Things had been pretty quiet in Alicante recently. It probably wouldn't last though, since the very same Clary Morgenstern was having a party. Somehow, Alec doubted he would be invited...

He realised that the silence had stretched on long enough and finally opened his mouth to speak. Aline nudged him a little in the ribs, shooting him a warning look as if to say, "Don't say something stupid." What did she expect him to say? _I dumped Clary Morgenstern because I'm gay and so is Aline?_ Hardly likely. He briefly wondered what would happen if he did actually say that, then dismissed it with a shudder.

"Too short and red," he choked out, earning a high pitched giggle from Aline and a high five from Sebastian; for _what_ he didn't know. It wasn't exactly an accomplishment: dumping someone. They were treating it like it was. Alec tried to swallow back the awful choking feel in his stomach as their cruel laughter filled the air. He smiled along with them before turning to Jon, expecting some sort of defence for his sister.

Instead, he just shrugged dismissively. "The bitch can do whatever the fuck she wants."

Jonathan wasn't exactly known for his eloquent wording.

"She's just like her fucking mother." And now that he thought about it, Alec realised that he'd never really seen Jon and Clary spend any time with each other at all really. He guessed that whereas Clary was more like her mother (who he hadn't actually met), Jon was more like their father - brutal and often cold on the exterior. Not for the first time, Alec felt slightly sorry for Clary. It must have been hard to live with two two very controlling men, both angry and most likely with violent tendencies. From the little information he'd gathered, Alec guessed that their mum wasn't around any more. Jonathan's resentment towards Jocelyn made it more than clear that she was still alive though. He vaguely remembered someone saying she'd run off with another man as well.

"She is a tiny little midget isn't she? And so _ginger_," Aline's lips twisted in repulsion. Alec had never thought Aline looked so ugly. "Ugh, what the hell did you see in her Alec?" He merely shrugged because the answer to that was nothing. He didn't see anything he liked in Clary, sadly.

"I'll only go to her party if there's lots of booze," Aline crossed her arms.

Alec snorted. "And you really think that _you'll_ be invited?" His eyes widened a little after he said it. He hadn't actually meant to but with Aline looking so damn haughty and up her own ass, Alec just had to say something. She glared a him before placing a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Of course we won't honey. That doesn't mean I'm not _going_." She smiled wickedly, the sarcasm just oozing like poison from her bright red lips. "I'll make sure she has a _really_ good time." Alec swallowed uneasily, resisting the urge to dash over to her table and warn the sweet little redhead of her impending doom.

* * *

"There he is! There's Will!" Clary practically shouted in the middle of their discussion about the school Christmas production; Magnus was considering doing an audition. He felt his stomach sink though, as Clary's bony little wrist stuck up in his peripheral vision, pointing to a table in a secluded corner of the school canteen. _Please, please don't suggest I go talk to him. Please..._

"Why don't you go talk to him?" asked Clary, nudging him a little.

"Um... Well, you know, he looks kind of...busy," Magnus finished awkwardly. Clary raised her eyebrows as she looked over at the sole occupant of the table. His head was lowered, his shoulder's drooping slightly as he half heartedly tossed the food around on his plate. Even from here Magnus could feel the hostile, negative vibe but he wasn't exactly 'busy', quite the opposite actually. Clary was clearly not sensing this foreboding atmosphere and she clearly didn't buy Magnus' pathetic excuse, as she gave him a scathing look.

"Well, what if he's, like, deep in thought or something?" Magnus suggested feebly, shrinking down a little into his blue plastic chair.

Clary narrowed her eyes, scraping back her chair forcefully. "If I didn't know any better Magnus Bane," she got up, stretching out a hand towards Magnus.

_Oh no, she wouldn't..._

"I would say that you're deliberately avoiding him." the fiery red head started tugging on his arm, futilely attempting to wrestle the lanky teenager out of his chair.

_Oh yes she fucking well would_. Magnus crossed his arms stubbornly and Clary wrestled with him for a few more seconds before seemingly giving up and sitting back down.

She sighed before her face brightened a little bit. "Look, I'll go with you..."

Magnus immediately shot up out of his chair. "No, no. I'll go..." Clary furrowed her eyebrows at this sudden change. She didn't know that her presence being there would make it so much more awkward. "...Now. I'll go...now." Magnus stuttered as he took a deep breath, offering a weak smile to Clary and Simon before tentatively making his way across the packed canteen.

He made his way slowly, trying to ignore the hostile glares from other tables and legs not-so-subtly placed in his way to trip him up. Despite his reluctance, Magnus knew that Clary was just trying to help though. She was a nice girl, attempting to help him fit in a little more at the school. And Magnus really needed all the friends he could get. It was always easier when he was with Clary or Simon who held popularity sway to a certain extent meaning that the bullies stayed away. But when he was on his own... He had only one option: to endure. And really, it wasn't unbearable; just the occasional light shove or insult shouted by some 'unknown' voice. Bullies are cowards. It takes them a while to build up more confidence. They would, inevitably, in numbers. A bully never really acts alone, always in a group, on a stage. After all, what's the point of a performance if there's no audience? Magnus would just have to hope and, most of all, wait.

As he approached the dreaded table, he tried to think of some sort of conversation opener yet his mind remained annoyingly blank. _Traitor_. And then he was there, opposite him. Magnus bobbed awkwardly for a moment yet 'Will' didn't look up, staring intently at the plate of brown sludge in front of him. It wasn't until the loud screeching of Magnus' chair resounded around the unusually quiet canteen, that Will looked up.

_His eyes aren't the same as Alec's._

Strangely enough, that was Magnus' first thought. Whereas Alec's were a dazzling cerulean blue, specked also with a variety of ever changing variations of blue, Will's eyes were darker, mostly a deep navy blue apart from the edges which were an almost violet colour. Magnus found them mildly fascinating. They weren't quite as infinite as Alec's, but William Herondale's eyes were certainly impressive.

"Um, hi," said Magnus, mentally face palming at his awkward greeting. He was also staring and he needed to stop. Now.

"Hello," Will smirked. "Is there a reason for you sitting at my table or did you just come to admire my stunning good looks?" Magnus blinked for a moment. Yep, Will had notced the staing. Magnus was a little thrown off though. He had been expecting moody but arrogant? Unbearably narcissistic? Not really.

"Oh please, if I wanted to see good looks I would just get a mirror darling. Beside, you're not really my type." Magnus lied. _Wait, where did that come from?_ When had this turned into a battle of the egos? Magnus inspected a purple glittery nail in an attempt to look nonchalant over his beating heart. Something about Will made him nervous. Already. _What the hell am I doing_? thought Magnus. He had half expected Will to say something rude so that he could just go back to his table in peace but now he had to actually talk to this arrogant bastard...

Will scoffed, sweeping his fringe which was creeping into his eyes to the side a little. His hair was slightly shorter than Alec's at the back and styled more elegantly... _And you're comparing them again_. "Your sweet little comebacks amuse me. I've only heard that one a few dozen times. Now, if you'd excuse me, I don't have all day so..."

"I just came over to talk to you," Magnus interjected.

Will looked almost puzzled as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking - Magnus thought - rather cute and confused. "Why?" he asked softly. Magnus had to lean forward to hear it, catching the scent of a fresh, citrusy washing powder.

_Why?! Why do I want to talk to him?_ Magnus scrambled around for a reason."I...thought you looked like someone who's in my maths class." Magnus resisted the urge to bash his head against the table; he didn't even _take_ math.

Will scowled a little, his momentary cute expression evaporating. "Probably Alec Lightwood," he muttered bitterly. It was clear he got this a lot.

"You know him?" Magnus leaned forwards a little, placing his head on his hands.

"You must be new here. Everyone knows him because he's so fucking 'clever' and 'brilliant' and 'popular'." Will rolled his eyes.

"I take it you don't like him then," Magnus deadpanned.

"He's a bastard," Will responded bluntly.

"Well that makes two of us with that opinion." Magnus smiled a little and he noticed that Will's eyes softened almost imperceptibly, a little bit of tension leaving his shoulders. Magnus was not the only one unsettled. Will Herondale did not often have 'company'.

"I guess so. I think we're vastly outnumbered though," Will glanced around the canteen.

"I wouldn't be so sure..." Magnus said and he couldn't resist looking behind him to the table where he knew Alec would be sitting to find a pair of blue eyes looking straight at him, almost burning with their intensity before Alec blushed and averted his gaze. Magnus frowned before turning away, feeling flustered. Suddenly, he had no idea what to say to Will, his mind had gone blank and he abruptly got up. He could feel the rest of the students eyes' like lasers on his back, staring, judging. Magnus met Will's eyes which looked almost...disappointed at the brevity of the conversation. _It must be a trick of the light._

"See you around, Will Herondale." Magnus turned away, not sure if he had any intentions of ever actually seeing this boy again. It was inevitable though, if he thought about it.

"Wait, how do you know my name?" Will asked suddenly. He wasn't sure if he was unnerved or touched by this tiny gesture.

"Alec's not the only notorious one." Magnus wasn't quite sure why he said it. Maybe he just wanted to make this boy feel appreciated or something - Alec seemed to get all the attention around here, despite the fact that he seemed the least likely person to want it. Magnus knew he had said the wrong thing to Will though as his expression darkened before his face went completely blank.

"Well, I'll see you around...?" Will looked at him expectantly and it took Magnus an almost embarrassing amount of time to realise that he was asking his name.

"Magnus. Magnus Bane." He took Will's outstretched hand, smiling when Will didn't make a comment about his peculiar name and when he felt the pleasantly warm touch of Will's hand; completely at odds with Alec's ice cold grip. This was nice and warm and familiar, like an old friend that you have known so long you feel completely whole when you're with them. Magnus could even imagine himself holding hands as they...

He shook his head, reluctantly relinquishing the grip before muttering some reply and stalking away, back to his own table.

"How's Will?" asked Simon casually when he re-occupied his chair.

Magnus furrowed his eyebrows. "Very...arrogant." _And bitter_, he added in his head.

Clary snorted. "He's the same as ever then," she announced.

"You knew him well?"

"Uh... Yeah. We all knew him well. He used to be best friends with A-Alec." She still struggled choking out his name and Magnus looked at her sympathetically, wanting to comfort her but knowing she didn't want it. Sometimes he felt really helpless, skirting around the root of the problem like he was navigating a mine field but Clary seemed think it was working. Magnus didn't complain.

He was a tad confused now though. "But Will said he hated Alec."

Clary's eyes darkened, flashing an unreadable expression. "I wouldn't be surprised if he does." She looked slightly wistful. At Magnus' blank expression she continued with a sigh. "Shit happened, ok? Everyone has...secrets, pasts they don't want to share."

She shrugged and continued babbling on about nothing. But Magnus couldn't help feeling that maybe Clary wasn't as naive or oblivious as he once thought. Maybe he hadn't quite figured her out yet. Something had happened. And she was there. She knew.

* * *

**I guess this was kind of a filler chapter. It's quite boring, not really my favourite. The title, the conversations, the everything about it is kinda mediocre. :/ It's not as depressing though. :) But it wasn't until I started writing him that I realised that I can't write Will. At all. :/ Yeah...review? :)**


	14. Darkness

**I don't know what the hell's going on with my writing at the moment. It's seriously fucked up. Sorry for the extremely late updates and crappy chapters ahead. I won't have Internet for the foreseeable future so decided to publish very quickly before I move house. It's been such a hectic few weeks. Sorry. Again. -.-'**

**Don't own it.**

_"When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow." ― _Ursula K. Le

* * *

**Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls**

Every day, for the last 16 years of her life, Isabelle Lightwood had put on a stiff navy blue dress that swept down past her knees with sensible black shoes, scraped her hair into a neat, tight bun with not one single tendril of hair out of place and attended the early morning church service.

It was mandatory.

She blended in with the rows of endless navy blue and too tight buns, her face serious and devout as she, along with 649 other girls, listened to the pastor, understanding roughly one word in every 20. Yet she never strayed out of place, not a foot, hair or toe. She was a good girl, perfect even.

Today was different.

She wasn't going.

It was quite simple really; easy to feign illness. Especially in her...condition. One quick temperature check and then she was peering through the glass, watching the endless lines of navy blue marching to church, like grotesque life sized child's toy soldiers. _Do I look like that?_ she wondered. Did she have that cold, bland emptiness splashed across her face. _Do I __blend__ like they do?_ In fact, if she looked too long, the little rows of toy soldiers blurred until they formed one big militant blob. All the same. _We are all the same._

One slender hand was pressed up against the cold glass, the other clutching her iPhone so tightly it could quote easily break. Technically phones weren't allowed - surprise, surprise - but she'd taken to hiding in her underwear drawer. It wasn't the worst thing she'd done, not by a long shot.  
_No new messages, no new voicemails. Nothing,_ the phone might as well have said.

_You have no-one_.

Fortunately, her mother wasn't there today to admonish her from shirking her religious responsibilities. Going to church was a very important part of the Lightwood family. Strangely enough, her family wasn't religious. That is, they didn't pray before dinner or bed. But it was a chance for them to be seen as the model family that they supposedly were. A formality, nothing more.

Isabelle wasn't quite sure when she stopped believing; in what she didn't know. Perhaps she had believed in the big guy, up in the sky. She was probably the only one in her family who actually listened to the priest although most of the time she either didn't care about or understand what he was saying. Who gives one that some dude in a big white dressing gown could turn water into wine? Not her. But she got the message. She liked to think that this big guy called God was looking after things, making sure everyone is safe, that they're on the right track. In her head, He was like one of those security guards surrounded by cameras and coffee, only more important. She imagined that He was perfect, with a kind, round face and one of those smiles that don't look too straight or stretched. He would have little round teeth - not too pointed like a shark's and not all brown or yellow. And perfect, even golden skin contrasting beautifully with his crisp white clothes. If you are striving for perfection in the world around you, one has to be perfect after all.

That was it, what she had believed in: perfection. Achieved, she thought, by control. Once, she had thought that the wind blew everyone in the right direction, that invisible hands were pushing the cars along the road like a child playing with toys. She well and truly believed that everyone had a life assigned to them, a destiny you could say. A destiny that you dreamt about. She knew what her's was. That was made clear to her and her siblings from birth. Strangely enough, it was her parent's who had told her, not God. Maybe that was her first clue that none of it was real. And it didn't belong to her.

Her life had shattered like glass right when she was told that there was something wrong with her little brother. Max, sweet little Max, was broken and she wasn't allowed to see him. He was a blemish on the spotless white floors of the pristine Lightwood mansion. Lightwoods didn't like blemishes. They banished them.

That was probably when she realised perfect didn't exist. Neither did control. None of it exists. That's when she became disillusioned with her parents. They locked a poor little child away when he needed them most and when she needed him most. But mostly she became disillusioned with everything, with life.

Life is...messy. It spirals, it drifts, it plummets, it twists. People die, cars crash and burn. Plans change. Her's had.

And it isn't the big things that matter the most, oh no. The big things are made up of other things, smaller pieces and then they're made up of even smaller bits. There's no hand or wind that gently guides us; cars crash, people tumble and plummet and the pieces gradually slide into place in some random order that could be brilliant or downright awful or even both at once. No-one knows. It's funny how one little action, one slight gesture, even one minute shift - so tiny it is almost indecipherable - can change everything. _Oh it's so funny, fucking hilarious,_ thought Isabelle sarcastically. Life changes so much. It's the shifts, the gestures and the actions; the things we're not even aware of, that make us or ruin us. _The chance encounters in a shop._ _How cliche._

That's why, she realised, people cling on to religion. So that they could fool themselves into thinking it'll all be alright, that someone else is handling it, not just them. Religion is hope. Hope flickers elusively like a candlelight though. Try to catch it and it'll burn you. And eventually, it all burns out. Naturally, some candles are longer than others. Some get all the luck and hope in the world. It never runs out.

Like Isabelle's had.

Then you're left drenched in darkness.

_No new messages. Blank screen. Darkness._

That was the conclusion Isabelle came to in a toilet stall - 3 from the right - in Mrs Fairchild's Academy for girls. It was a rather ironic place to become so philosophical, she realised now but then, it seemed her whole life was rather ironic. She had thought about her life a lot since the 3 from the right toilet stall, hadn't really thought about anything else since, pondering on the 'what ifs' and the 'what-is-lefts'.

There wasn't much left. Not much at all. She was clinging on to the crumbs and shards left over but they wouldn't last. Everything was either crumbling or gone. _What if, I hadn't gone to see Max that day?_

Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls, like the Lightwood mansion, was one of those places that is always too cold. Even in summer. And it's always quiet. Even if you shouted in your loudest, freest outdoor voice it would be sucked away and buried in the deep, rotting wood of the high glossed panels on the walls, a flicker of the cobwebbed chandelier the only sign that you've said anything at all. If you were to peel away the plaster and paint, you would no doubt uncover an outpouring of secrets from countless centuries - her's with them. The cold was said to harden the girls, make them tough; the silence said to make them obedient. _What if we hadn't gone in to that very comic book store?_

The greens and the blues and the greys were merging together now into one big average blob. She wasn't sure if it was the condensation from the window or her tears or the sad colours leaking together in sympathy for her. _Ha, sympathy, _Isabelle thought bitterly._ When have I ever got any of that?_ Clary had hung up on her the other day, right when she needed her most and Simon hadn't spoken to her since...

_No new messages._

She threw the phone blindly over her shoulder, not caring where or how it landed, half hoping that it would shatter into pieces to join her life. She might as well have everything matching.

She suddenly felt like it was more than a pane of glass separating her from her classmates. They were so perfect and whole, lookimg collected and neat in their navy blue dresses. How long could she bridge the gap? How long could she pretend that she belonged here?

For how long could she hide the fact that her life simply did not fit into that navy blue dress anymore?

_What if...I'd never met him?_

* * *

Alec Lightwood was having one of those crappy days. You know, the ones where you wake up and there's on hot water and everything seems to be amiss with the world but you just can't out your finger on it.

And it was just about to get worse.

"Hey look! It's Sparkles!" Sebastian sneered. _Damnit_.

Alec's attendance had plummeted to new levels recently - not that it wast all that great in the first place. It was all too easy to do when you lived on your own and the school didn't really care. Although he would have liked to claim his increasing absence was purely because of his so called 'rebellious nature', he knew that wasn't the real reason: he was avoiding Magnus.

Alec wasn't the type of person to avoid someone after talking to them once. Well, he wasn't usually. But something had changed with Magnus. He didn't actually want to hurt him but that was very difficult to avoid in his situation. So the easiest way to avoid hurting to someone was to avoid them altogether.

"Fag!" Shove. Of course today it was not going his way and naturally he would see Magnus. Life likes to screw with things that way. Alec winced as if he himself was being shoved into the wall. _Pull yourself together Alec. Indifference. Act indifferently. It's nothing, just a natural part of life._ Maybe if he didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't be true.

But then he was looking into those strange eyes. They can't be missed really. An otherworldly combination of colours and emotions swirled against each other around a slightly slit pupil. Somehow they were steely and angry but at the same time almost beseeching as if Magnus were pleading Alec to stick up for him, say something. Anything.

"Hey! Don't talk to him like that!"

Oh how Alec wished the words had somehow wrestled themselves out of his own lips. Instead, they came from halfway down the corridor, followed by a pissed-off looking Will Herondale. Alec bristled at the sight of that terribly familiar black hair. As usual, it brought with it the tidal wave of memories that bowled him over every time. You'd think he'd be used to it after almost a year but then, they had a lot of memories to be recounted. One tended to accumulate them when you spend your whole childhood together - both good and bad. Alec wasn't sure which was worse to remember: the countless good times that they once had or the one disaster that had ruined it all?

"I can talk to you and your _boyfriend_ however the fuck I please," Jonathan sneered. Alec flinched. **_Boyfriend?_** _But they can't be..._ Magnus had only been here a month. Alec had seen them talking to each other a lot though and Will had relocated to what was fast becoming Magnus, Clary and Simon's table.

Will paled slightly. _What does that mean?_ wondered Alec frantically. It was in times like this that he wished he could figure people out easier.

Magnus' lightly accented voice pierced through Alec's frantic thoughts. "You know, they say that people who are in the closet themselves insult other people's sexuality to compensate for it." _Is he looking at me? Why is he looking at me?_ Alec tried to calm his flaming cheeks. He might as well just stick a sign above his head saying closet with a flashing red arrow pointing to him.

Magnus sort of smiled grimly as if he'd reluctantly proven a point. Alec highly doubted that Jonathan even knew what Magnus was talking about though. Sebastian was said to be the brainier of the two although whether what Sebastian had could be classed as brains was debatable. Alec's theory was proven correct as a blank look crossed Jonathan's face.

Sebastian whispered in his ear and a dark look crossed his face. "You calling me gay faggot?" he finally spat.

Magnus' eyes widened innocently. He smiled. "No, I believe I was insinuating it. Surely you know the difference?"

Sebastian looked like he was about to punch something or preferably someone so Magnus grabbed Will's arm, quickly leading him down the packed hallway. Meanwhile, Alec, struggling to contain a smile, had quickly dodged his two 'friends' and scurried down the packed corridor. He distinctly heard the protest of groaning metal: a fist embedded in it, no doubt. He was just glad it was a locker and not someone's head.

Up ahead, Magnus still had one hand curled protectively around Will's arm. For some stupid reason, it was making Alec very irritated. He instinctively followed them, almost jogging to keep up. Luckily, the crowd parted like the red sea for him: one of the perks of popularity.

Once they'd rounded a few corners, he saw that Will stopped and tugged Magnus' arm. He said something to Magnus. Alec followed, trying not to look too stalkerish whilst subtly peering around the corner to try and catch some of the conversation.

"...could have handled those assholes myself." Will was looking very red and had his fists clenched.

"I know," Magnus said. He was clearly trying to calm Will down, a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"I could have punched them. All of them. They're scared cowards, the lot of them. Especially Lightwood."

Alec narrowed his eyes. The sad thing was he couldn't even deny it. _I **am** a coward._

An unreadable expression crossed Magnus' face. "Alec didn't even say anything."

"Exactly," Will snarled.

Magnus sighed. "Is it because you were called..."

"Gay?" Will filled in. "I _am_ gay Magnus. It's not something I have trouble accepting... unlike others..."

Magnus was silent for a moment. It wasn't like it was news. The whole school knew it. Will was just a different kind of gay to Magnus, less...multicoloured hedgehog.

"Are you angry because...they said you were my boyfriend?" Magnus seemed tentative, almost as if he were scared Will would reject him.

Will's eyes widened. "No, no Magnus. It's _definitely_ not that! I..." he trailed off. "Look, I have to get to class." He reached up and hugged Magnus. Alec let out a gasp. He hadn't expected it. Will's head whipped round and he quickly skittered away - back where he'd just come from. He was breathing heavily, his cheeks a rosy pink.

_Shit, why am I getting so worked up about this?_ Magnus and Will were certainly...friendly with each other but it didn't mean anything...did it? Why did he even care?

He knew what Will was like. He wasn't good for Magnus. Well, neither was he himself but... _It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything. They're not dating. They're just friends. It doesn't mean anything,_ the words pounded through his head. The words _themselves_ were starting not to mean anything though.

_It doesn't mean anything._

And he could make sure it didn't. A plan of sorts formed in his head. Smiling to himself, Alec made his way to his next class, whipping out a crinkled timetable on the way there.

_P.E. Perfect._

* * *

**:/ So yeah, Alec's getting jealous and plotting revenge. Shit happened between Alec and Will and Magnus and Will are getting friendly... Sorry for how depressing Isabelle's bit was. She's kind of important to the story later on. Can anyone guess what happened? Any theories? :O I hope that chapter was ok. I've become really paranoid about my writing suddenly... :/**


	15. Walls

***I don't own the Mortal Instruments.***

**Hey guys! I somehow finished my homework really early so had to time to complete this chapter tonight. :) Things have been so hectic though recently what with all of my exams before and after Christmas. :O So I'm sorry for not replying to reviews. Thank you to all of you, they mean so much to me. :)**

**Anyway, this chapter's bitty and really quite random (but when are my chapters _not _random?) There's quite a lot going on in it but I wanted to describe to you Alicante a bit more and what I call the 'old families'. I hope it's ok...**

**There's also some Will and Magnus. Now, a few people have told me they really don't want WillxMagnus (Lol, my iPad kept trying to change that to WillxJem) I can't tell you that I am or I'm not going to do MagnusxWill because that would kind of step on my story wouldn't it? Just, have a little faith guys... :)**

* * *

_"When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose." - _Jack, Titanic

Alicante was one of those old little towns which supposedly once looked pretty.

Then the developers ruined it.

Now it was a mismatch of old and new, rich and poor all cobbled together disjointedly. And of course, this caused tension to build, particularly amongst the rich. It was almost tangible, an odd foreboding mist that constantly hung in the air, stifling the inhabitants to the extent that they didn't know they _were_ being stifled. Newcomers like Magnus Bane could feel the unusual atmosphere but just couldn't quite put their finger on it.

The actual town itself had a small centre with a recently built, humongous Cathedral splayed awkwardly in the middle, too big against the clusters of quaint boutiques and shops. There used to be a beautiful little church with stained glass windows. Alec used to tinker on the organ there when he was little. He discovered that if you came to the church at just the right time the sun would filter through the stained glass windows casting a beautiful amber light throughout the whole church. He had stood in the middle of it as a child, arms spread wide so that he cast a huge shadow in the orange. And he stood there, just soaking up the light. In that small church, he didn't feel so tiny or insignificant.

Religion eventually got popular though so they knocked down the warm church with Alec's favourite amber light and invested in a stylish new Cathedral made out of clinical whites and blues.

Things went downhill from there onwards.

In the surrounding town they knocked down the old thatched cottages, replacing them with a fortress of endless rows of bleak grey townhouses and even smaller flats for those not quite so fortunate. After all, the rich patrons had to accommodate. And so they did, in possibly the most inconvenient way possible. To be poor in Alicante was a pretty bleak prospect yet none of them would ever take the initiative to leave. Once an Alicantian, always an Alicantian. No matter how much it pained them to do so.

Finally, on the outskirts of the town were the sweeping grounds of the two opposing boy and girl boarding schools - Mrs Fairchild's Academy for Girls and The Starkweather school for boys. The schools were said to be founded by the ancestors of two of the old families living in the huge mansions scattered around the surrounding countryside. The Penhallows, the Carstairs, the Starkweathers, the Fairchilds, the Morgensterns, the Herondales and the Lightwoods - they all lived there and had for centuries without budging.

The mansions themselves were grand old buildings, spread far apart with acres and acres of land stretching in a vast no-man's land between them, only a few trees sparsely occupying the land. There were ancient legends of old wars fought between the families in the past over boundaries, of fierce rivalries festering in the hearts of Alicante's greatest and noblest. It could be the reason for the huge brick walls cutting harsh zig zags through the land, a clear grey dissection of the luscious green. The walls themselves were a bit neglected and crumbling now. There were some gaps where a brick or two were perhaps dislodged in anger over a few less extra feet of room. They served as one of the few reminders of the turbulent family history.

Although such petty and violent disagreements were said to be far behind them, the walls hadn't come down.

Communication hadn't improved much either. The families were always civil to each other of course, masking their disdain with a smile about as real as the botoxed lips it was placed upon. The rich are not particularly well known for their sincerity, too busy gorging on their restless greed and narcissistic tendencies. They made no effort to speak even to each other, too wrapped up in their own worlds to actually notice anyone around them.  
And that was just fine with them. Smile and wave and nothing more.

There was only ever one exception to the rule.

The Herondale's mansion was once separated from the Lightwood mansion by only a shallow stream, easily crossed with some carefully placed footing. Even a child could cross it without much difficulty. As they once so often did. Now, a wall - the tallest of them all and still only one or two years old - clearly marked the boundary, never to be crossed again.

However, the stream still trickled through the land - albeit with a little lacklustre and a soft babbling of secrets never to be shared. The few trees around the wall still mournfully echoed with dying laughter, the grass wistfully sighing in the harsh wind at the memories of children running carelessly through the meadows. Not anymore.

* * *

"Ugh, it's so fugly!" Magnus scrunched up his nose as he held some rusty red tracksuit bottoms in front of him.

Will laughed. "Who even says 'fugly' anymore Mag?"

Magnus pouted. "I do," he said simply.

He quickly pulled the borrowed, rust red pants on before matching it with his neon green shirt - the only other item he had that was part of the school's colours. _Has to be fucking green and red, doesn't it?_

"Besides, you look..." Will looked over just as the last strip of golden skin was covered with the bright T-shirt. He swallowed. "...fine." _Better even_. "Just as you always...do. Although not quite as good as me." Will smiled but Magnus narrowed his eyes at his hesitant voice, thinking it was Will's bad lying skills.

"Don't you go bullshitting me, William. I look fucking awful!"

"Mag, you're being overdramatic. Besides, there's not even a mirror in here. How do you know you look bad?"

Magnus fixed Will with a cold, hard stare. "I just do." He then persisted with his whining. "I _hate_ PE! Why do we have to do it? None of the other schools do it in sixth form."

"Fag," someone sneered from the other end of the changing room. The whole room suddenly went silent. Will bristled, a look of cold fury on his face. Magnus quickly tugged him onto the sports field. He had just seen first hand how Will reacted to name calling.

"Real original," he called meekly before leaving.

Magnus Bane was having one of those mediocre days. You know, the ones where your hair is just sort of average and flat and everything seems to blend. It was one of those days, he figured, that was just that: a day, part of the numerous other days that he wouldn't really remember. Nothing special. It was only the big things you remembered, the important, life changing things.

All in all, he was as comfortable as he would ever be at this school: not very much. He was glad that he'd made another friend: Will, who shared most of his classes. However, he still didn't know much about Will. Well, he knew next to nothing. Sure Will sat at their table, laughed and joked and discussed stuff that wasn't actually that important with them but whenever Magnus asked him a question, Will would answer without really answering. It was like trying to hold a bucketful of water in just his bare hands; every time Magnus thought he was getting somewhere it would trickle away and he would have to start all over again. To say it was frustrating would be an understatement.

Plus, when he was with Will, tension seemed to crackle through the hallways like static electricity. Students parted for him and long stretches of silence followed them everywhere they went. It seemed that the entire school knew something that he didn't but whenever he asked Clary or Simon about it, they avoided eye contact and quickly darted around the subject. He certainly would never ask Will, especially because it involved him and, despite having that one conversation, Magnus hadn't spoken to Alec since. It would probably cause more than a few raised eyebrows if he tried to. So it seemed that he just had to put up with it.

To be honest, Magnus didn't even see Alec all that much. He guessed that the boy either had completely different classes to him or didn't actually attend classes. At the moment, he was swerving more to the latter. However, when he did see Alec, it wasn't at all pleasant. Magnus had never seen him without Sebastian and Jonathan on either side of him, ready to discretely (or not) shoulder shove either Will or Magnus into a locker. Alec never did anything though, just glared as they walked away. And for a few weeks this continued: the glaring and shoving and then the pretending that it didn't happen. Magnus could see Will's fingernails digging into his skin, leaving white crescents in the flesh and his knuckles straining to strike. Today was nothing, just a warm-up. It was a ticking time bomb, waiting to happen.

_Someone is bound to get hurt,_ Magnus thought grimly.

* * *

"Bane! On the bench!" Will watched Magnus as he smiled and daintily trotted over to the bench. Will was almost certain that Magnus was dropping the rugby ball every time it came anywhere near him on purpose. It was probably also due to the fact that he didn't want to ruin his nails. Will rolled his eyes, eyeing his mud caked nails sith a shrug of indifference. Whatever Magnus was doing, it was working. He was, in all respects, "a lost cause" to Coach Pangborn and therefore was benched after the first 5 minutes of every game. You had to admire the guy for being consistent.

Will didn't know how Magnus managed to remain so skinny with so little exercise. Literally, he was like a stick, _a very tanned, smooth stick_... When Will had asked Magnus how he stayed so thin, he had simply smiled. "Magic," and wiggled his fingers. Will suspected it had more to do with what Magnus ate (or didn't eat) than 'magic'. He had never seen him eat something remotely unhealthy or substantial. Will made a mental note to keep an eye on that.

Magnus smiled before scrambling for some readily prepared sunglasses (even though there was a light drizzle and not a speck of sunshine leaking through the clouds) and retrieved his phone. It was bedazzled - naturally - with purple sparkles, Will chuckled at that. Everything about Magnus Bane was so sparkly and bright and Will was...not.

Magnus waved and gestured for Will to focus on the game. He'd noticed him staring. _Shit, stop staring Herondale,_ he scolded himself, quickly glancing up just as the rugby ball came sailing his way and he took off down the field.

Usually, the familiar texture of leather, the pungent waft of grass and mud, the crisp breeze biting into his cheeks put Will completely at ease. When he was playing rugby, everything was forgotten, dissolved away. But lately, his mind was sort of muddled and polluted with bright yellow eyes. He was also never far from the constant state of disbelief that _Magnus Bane_ - with his sparkly glitter and his even brighter eyes - was talking to _him_. He wondered constantly why they were friends, why he'd sat at _his - Will Herondale's_ table. But then again he'd probably never know. That was the mystery of Magnus. _And Magnus himself doesn't know does he? _A bitter thought crept its way into Will's head._ If he knew the truth, would Magnus still be friends with me? If he knew what really happened with me and..._

And suddenly he was falling, crashing to the grass, the ball wrenched from his fingers and the full weight of his assaulter knocking the breath out of him.

"What the fuck?"

"Stay away from him," a voice hissed in his ear. That voice. He knew that voice. He knew that voice too well. It hurt to think of that voice.

Alec Lightwood. On top of him, crushing him, glaring at him, his hands on his shoulders, gripping so tightly there would probably be marks in the morning... Will barely had time to struggle or breathe even before...

"Lightwood! Get off him!" Alec looked worried for a moment before quickly shooting warning daggers back at and Will and scrambling to get away.

"Off the pitch! You're banned for the next 3 games!" Pangborn looked almost...proud though Will thought with disgust, a wicked glint was in the coach's black, beady eyes. They weren't allowed to tackle like that in practice but Alec would more likely than not be allowed to play next PE lesson, Will realised bitterly. He got away with everything. _Oh how true that is_, thought Will. Alec had got away with more than his fair share of things, with Will baring the brunt of the blame. He was sick of it.

He hadn't even realised that Alec had stormed off the pitch, his face thunderous.

No-one helped him up from the grass. But then, Will really wouldn't have expected them to. He brushed the grass and mud off. _Should have expected something like this, really..._

_But who the hell does Alec expect me to stay away from_? Will looked over to wherever Alec was marching off to...

* * *

"Bit of a rough tackle there Alexander," Magnus observed, raising a carefully groomed eyebrow, trying to look nonchalant. Truthfully, he was worried for Will but he guessed he was okay by the way he was now charging up the pitch, albeit rather angrily. And it was part of the game. Wasn't it? _They were meant to tackle each other..._ "I wouldn't have expected _that_ from someone who supposedly 'hates' sport."

Alec just shrugged, staring off into the distance. He was sitting the furthest possible distance away from Magnus, on the very edge of the bench. Surprisingly, Magnus found himself stung a little. Alec was treating him like he had some highly contagious disease.

But then again, perhaps it was a blessing. Magnus hadn't actually expected Alec to be so...muscly. Yet now he could clearly see the chiseled biceps that were usually hidden in the boxlike school uniform. His skin was so creamy and white, an ivory Adonis. Magnus was finding it really hard tearing his eyes away. It was strange though, Magnus would have expected Alec - with the body to die for and all the popularity - to hold himself with poise and confidence. Yet Alec slouched, his shoulders hunched as if he was shrinking away from the world, hiding his beauty. Will on the other hand, stood proud and tall with an easy, arrogant gait. He seemed to project confidence just through his stance and ooze badass with that lazy smile. This evidently did not come easily to Alec who looked so uncomfortable, completely at odds with his Godlike body. He had it all yet he didn't seem to know it.

"You're staring Magnus," Alec observed indifferently, without looking at him. The traitorous blush forming on his cheeks gave him away though.

Magnus smirked. "A little full of ourselves are we? What makes you think I was looking at you." True, it was a complete and utter lie but he didn't need to know that.

"What can you say to convince me that you weren't?" Alec turned to face him, the full intensity of those piercing blue eyes like searing spotlights. It sent all witty retorts scuttling out of Magnus' head until he was reduced to a slobbering mess...or close enough anyway. Luckily his phone buzzed, saving him from having to pluck some words out of nowhere. It was a text from Clary reminding him of his impending audition.

"Oh shit! I've got to get ready!"

"For what?" asked Alec, scooting a little closer through the exclusion zone to see the text. Actually, he was now sitting really close. Magnus could smell the heady musk permeating from his body..._sandalwood_, he guessed.

"My audition for the school's Christmas production," Magnus answered, briskly snapping the keyboard shut on his old LG phone. He wasn't one to follow the iPhone trend. Well, that was what he told everyone. Money had a factor in it as well.

Alec's eyes had widened. "You do know that's..."

"Social suicide. I know, so I've been told. A lot." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Then why do it?" Alec asked, looking a little baffled.

"Because unlike some, I don't really care. It's not like I have much of a rep to destroy in the first place. You know what they say: when you got nothing..."

"You got nothing to lose," Alec finished, almost whispering the words reverently.  
Magnus lowered his sunglasses, leaving Alec under the full attention of his astonished gaze. "I didn't take you for a Leo fan," he said.

Alec then blushed all the way to his hair. Magnus was almost certain that if he checked every inch of Alec's body, it would be a brilliant beetroot red. _On second thoughts, let's not think about that. Inspecting every inch of that white skin..._

"I'm n-not. Not...really," he mumbled. _Only seen it about a thousand times I bet,_ thought Magnus. He knew a Titanic fan when he saw one. It was, after all, a favourite of his.

"Don't worry. I won't out you."

Magnus smiled a little, his eyes crinkling. He was joking after all (wasn't he?)

Alec tensed though, his eyes going hard and guarded like a gate had snapped shut. And that one gesture confirmed everything Magnus needed to know. "...as a secret Titanic junkie," he added, just to reassure Alec. Alec laughed uneasily. He shifted a little. A strained silence polluted the air.

Suddenly Magnus blurted out, completely out of the blue, "Why don't you join, like, the school orchestra or something?" Truthfully, it had been bothering him for a while, thag no-one would hear Alec's painfully beautiful music. Alec remained in stony silence and Magnus immediately regretted saying it. "I mean, you love music so..."

"Who says I love it?" Alec cut in harshly.

"W-well seeing you at the piano, I just presumed..."

"You presumed," said Alec. Magnus didn't understand it. One minute they were smiling secretly and the next Alec's face was like a closed off stone wall, impossible to see through or scale, "Everyone presumes that they know me. They don't and neither do you."

"Alexander, I-I was just trying to help."

"It's Alec," he spat but then he sighed. "I know you're trying to help Magnus. I know. It would be good, wouldn't it? To you it's so easy, doing things like that, expressing yourself. Well it's not always that simple. I wish it was but it's just not. You might have nothing but I have _everything_ to lose." He was quiet for a moment, his chest heaving. Magnus just sat there in silence, unsure what to do.

_Jeez, it's just the school orchestra,_ he thought and was about to say so. But then he realised that Alec wasn't talking about the school orchestra anymore. Not at all.

Alec was talking about everything.

Finally, he reached out an arm to, very lightly, touch Alec's shoulder. It stayed there for all of two seconds before Alec shrugged it off as if it were burning acid.

"Besides," he murmured quietly, his eyes moody and stormy and so very, very far away, "the piano's a solo instrument."

There was no arguing with that. Magnus sat there, dumbstruck, his phone and audition completely forgotten as he watched Alec's solitary figure fade into the distance.

_Why can't I just have a normal, happy conversation with you?_ he practically screamed at Alec in his head.

_Maybe Alec just doesn't have anything happy to say, _he realised a few seconds later.


	16. Silver Plated Nightmares

**I don't like this chapter. It's been annoying me. Really, really annoying me. Nothing much happens in it at all.**** The thing is, I have plans for later on in this story, lots of plans but I just don't know how to get there. Oh, and I have a HUGE bombshell with Will and Alec. I've figured out _exactly_ what happneed between them. I'm not telling you in this chapter though. Mwahahaha. :) **

**Ah well, just read the terribly depressing and confusing chapter. :) It's got two dreams in it and a bit of Arthur and Artemis Bane. I really wanted to include more conversation and stuff but then the chapter would be ridiculously long so just know that the next chapter will (hopefully) be coming very soon. ****Enjoy. :)**

**Don't own the Mortal Instruments. It's on my Christmas list though. :)**

* * *

_"There are many who don't wish to sleep for fear of nightmares. Sadly, there are many who don't wish to wake for the same fear." - _Richelle E. Goodrich

* * *

Magnus missed his audition. Because there weren't many people auditioning for the play itself though, he was allowed to re-audition the next day after school. He didn't really mind; it gave him extra time to prepare. He was a bit annoyed and irritated at Alec though. And more than anything he was confused. Very confused.

Something had clearly happened between Alec and Will by the way they avoided each other like the plague. He hadn't asked Will about it and it was clear he was just going to have to deal with this constant state of not knowing like a perpetual veil over his eyes, distorting his vision. Will wasn't talking. In fact, he was unnaturally quiet for the rest of the day. So quiet, in fact, that he was verging on ignoring Magnus. At lunch, he offered a few non-committal grunts of acknowledgment or some sparse words every so often when he was asked for his opinion, but nothing more. Will wasn't quite as loud or outgoing as Magnus but he would have preferred something other than this archaic, primal version of his friend. Because that was what Will was to him wasn't it? A friend.

Friends enjoy those warm, that last slightly _too_ long. And it's completely normal to have the occasional brushes of fingers under the table. It's also common to dream about your friend's eyes isn't it? Dreams of blue eyes shrouded in black darkness polluted his sleep.

It didn't help that he wasn't quite sure whether the eyes were Alec's or Will's. At first they were a clear cut cerulean blue but lately they had been growing deeper and darker, the edges tinting violet. What the hell did it all _mean_?

Confused did not even begin to explain Magnus Bane.

Maybe that was why he was so grumpy lately. He'd also felt the need to apply more and more make-up to conceal the heavy purple bags under his eyes and the sallow tone creeping into his skin. And he'd been so bone achingly exhausted. Strangely enough, it wasn't because his workload was increasing. He just had this constant feeling of discontent. Something...unsettling was hanging in the air and Magnus couldn't help getting the suspicion that something big was going to happen.

It was raining and Will, in his irritable mood, had left before Magnus, leaving him stranded without a lift. Magnus had never learnt to drive. His dad had promised to teach him and somehow Magnus just couldn't bring himself to sit behind the wheel, knowing that the promise would never be fulfilled. Besides, they couldn't even afford a car. So, Magnus merely sighed and shouldered his bag and extra PE kit. He wished that he'd had the foresight to being an umbrella, or the ability to summon one at the snap of his fingers.

But sadly, neither of these things happened. He was soaked all the way down to his bones before he'd even rounded the corner. By the time the 20 minute trek was complete, Magnus was so thoroughly drenched that he was sure that his entire being consisted of rainwater.

He barely had the energy to get through the door, struggling with the key in his numb fingers and shivering as he shrugged off his thoroughly ruined coat. Dumping his bags carelessly on the ground, he immediately proceeded to the kitchen to prepare a warm mug of soup or something. He didn't even bother saying hello to his mother. It's not like he would get much of a reply. Plus, his thoughts and feelings seemed to be pulverised into to a puddly mush - grey, to match the sky.

Maybe that was why he shouted at his mother that night.

Or maybe it was the sight of yet another white envelope, denoted 'urgent' in the blood red letters of finality, that just tipped him over the edge of patience and reason.

Or maybe it just needed to be said.

* * *

Artemis Bane used to be beautiful once. Or so everyone told her - "she's a looker that Artie. The real life of a party." She could never really see it herself, too blinded by imperfections such as that slightly too full upper lip and those puffy cheeks that everyone thought were cute. It's funny - she always used to think - how you can see the beauty in everything else but never in yourself.

However, she knew for certain that she wasn't beautiful now.

Her eyes had faded to a worn, scratchy grey - the colour of unhappy rain clouds. Wirnkles spread like a road map of sadness across her features. Her black hair was matted in unruly knots and she didn't even dare think about the excess folds of skin beneath her baggy clothes.

When you can barely bring herself to look at your reflection, you must be one ugly bitch.

And she had no need to, since she was resigned to a life on the couch. She could watch the people on the telly with the beautiful faces and perfect lives instead. The unbroken. She supposed it could be considered a rather pitiful existence: 4 years wasted away on a couch watching daytime telly. But her beautiful husband died 4 years ago and took all of the life in the world with it. She was sentenced to this cold, grey prison so why not watch a little TV whilst she waited. What she would give to have one more conversation to her husband, for her last words to not have been "don't forget to go to the post office and pick up that parcel." Life never works out that way though. It doesn't give people the time to say final 'I love yous'. It's not gentle or kind. It pushes off cliffs without a second thought, sending you hurtling to your doom. And before you know it, it's gone.

She supposed there was always Magnus. Sweet but sassy Magnus. He was beautiful; always would be: a cute baby, an adorable child, a handsome teenager. She guessed he would be one of those graceful agers as well. And the boy damn well knew it. He'd inherited Arthur Bane's confidence and strength as well as Artemis' delicate beauty. It almost wasn't fair. He got everything. He was perfect.

4 years ago, when they got the news that Arthur Bane had died on the way to the Post Office, Artemis had fallen apart. Whereas she crumbled though, Magnus remained strong. He took responsibility, became the man of the house just like his daddy. At only 14, her beautiful boy became a man. Too young, some might say; the kind of people who have a choice.

She had always admired his strength from afar and maybe that was how she managed to miss all of the bruises and the sadness lurking beneath his forced optimism. She didn't even realise he was being bullied until he came home one night - 2 years after Artie died - crying because "if I'm called a faggot one more time, I might just break into a thousand tiny pieces mama."

Artemis had never felt so helpless, holding that unloved boy in her arms night after night, watching whilst he crumbled away before her very eyes at brutal words of hate and disgust. She was failing dramatically as a mother, hand't even noticed her child was being bullied for God's sake! And she had just held him and held him and held him as he cried from the bullies who polluted his sleep with nightmares.

They had moved a year and a half later, decided that this was one of the only cases where running was justifiable, not cowardly. Artemis had always been a coward though. Somedays she just didn't open her eyes. She could only hope and pray that this school was better, a clean start.

She hoped, as any mother does, that her son would find someone nice, someone as beautiful as him to love him. Her little Magpie deserved someone special. Of course, she'd always assumed it would be a girl and that they'd have pretty kids - not as pretty as Magnus, of course. But nevertheless, Magnus deserved a beautiful boy with bright eyes and a big heart. God at least owed him that: love.

And she knew she couldn't give him that, not as much as he deserved anyway. All Artemis Bane did now was...breathe, an empty shell of a person. It barely left any room for loving.

Sometimes, she thought of her body as a timer, counting down the faint beats of her heart until the very end. The only thing stopping the timer going down to zero was Magnus. He really was the only reason she was staying. Until someone could take her place.

Sometimes, she felt like they were both holding each other together by a few strands of thread: tenuous and painfully fragile. She hated that she felt so useless. Sometimes, she wished that he would just..snap at her. She deserved it for not being there for him when he needed her most. And really, it was inevitable.

But that didn't mean it wasn't a shock when it finally happened.

"Do you realise we're going to be in piles and piles of _debt_ by next year if this caries on? Is that what you want? For all of our stuff to be taken away." No response. A huff of frustration.

Words that followed and can never be taken back.

"Maybe if you got off your lazy ass and did some work for once we wouldn't be in all this shit."

Magnus had never sworn at Artemis before. It felt like a cold slap to the face. The word sounded so twisted snd ugly on his lips but it did the trick. Her eyes shot open, a gasp escaping her lips. She was awake in what felt like the first time since forever.

"I'm _trying_ Maggie." Artemis winced at the sound of her voice: breathy and scratchy like nails, seeming to crawl right up Magnus' spine. He had to remind himself that this broken creature once had so much...life. It was difficult when Artemis Bane had never looked less beautiful or more broken.

And still, he couldn't find any remorse. _Not hard enough_, he wanted to say. _You stopped trying when he died, left me to do all the hard work. Pathetic._ He wanted to scream and yell at her and throw stuff and smash stuff until somehow his dad emerged out of the broken shards, a toothy grin and some throw away comment on his lips.

But Magnus didn't do that. He turned away, left her to decide whether to pick up the pieces or leave them scattered across the floor.

* * *

Magnus didn't dream of blue eyes that night. Instead, he remembered. He remembered everything that was normal, what he'd always wanted. In many ways, that was worse...

Magnus awoke to the sound of sizzling. Is someone in the house...cooking? he wondered. Surely not but he immediately went to go and investigate. He slowly padded down the stairs, his dinosaur slippers scuffing along the carpet. From the kitchen he could here the faint sound of the radio, a muffled 'How d'ya like your eggs in the morning' barely being contained by the walls. He could quite clearly smell the bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen. It was one of the most delicious smells he'd smelt in a long time.

No sooner had he entered the homely kitchen and pondered why he was suddenly back in their old family home in America, he was swooped up by some strong arms and waltzed around the kitchen. He giggled as he looked into the familiar gold green eyes that he saw everyday in the mirror and yet had missed so much. They never quite looked the same on him as they did on his father, with his shaggy blonde hair and matching carefree appearance. His father was laughing too and singing wildly out of tune to the song - a favourite of Artie Bane's.

When Magnus began to feel a little dizzy, his dad plonked him in front of his mother, smoothly handing him a plate. She turned around from her position stirring a pot and fixed him with a dazzling smile. Magnus couldn't help taking a deep gasp of shock. He really shouldn't have been so surprised at Artemis Bane's beauty - after all, he saw it everyday but somehow he felt like he'd missed it or not appreciated it up until now. Her lustrous black curls were tucked into a pristine bun with only a few tendrils to softly frame her face. Her eyes seemed to be dancing with the music - the glints of green sparkling against the hazel. He noted gladly that there were no bloodshot eyes, no tangles in her hair, no lines of worry criss-crossing her face. She was as well presented as ever, dressed in a sensible, flowery dress: the standard attire for a working day.

"Good morning my little Magpie." She kissed him gently on the cheek, the make-up that Magnus would later on like to wear so much staining his cheek slightly.

"Good morning mama," he replied as she loaded his plate with breakfast items before guiding him gently to the table where his father was already sitting.

For some reason, Magnus couldn't stop beaming through his mouthfuls of food, even at benign things like "could you pass me the butter, Artie?" - a little joke between his parents, both of whom could be called Artie. Apparently, that was the first thing that Artemis and Arthur bonded over in college, that and a shared loathing for the law degree that they were doing. Artemis had quit and become a secondary school teacher but Arthur stayed on and grown quite respected in the world of for his confidence and charm. He was a suave guy - Arthur Bane. It was why Artemis had fallen in live with him.

The breakfast went by too quickly for Magnus' liking. He didn't know why, but he was scared of it ending, like something terrible was going to happen. He chewed the bacon slowly, savouring the salty taste melting against his tongue.

Things do come to an end though and soon enough his father was waving goodbye to him at the bus-stop. "Have a good day at school kiddo."

* * *

Magnus awoke with tears streaming down his face and sobs choking him. It had all seemed so real. It's only when you wake up that you realise nothing was real at all. The memory was hollow with missing details. His father's face hadn't had the same light. His mother's hair hadn't looked quite right. The sky was red and there were other oddities, as so often happens in dreams. In fact, he was beginning to forget the dream altogether.

But the image of his father waving from the pavement outside his house would be forever etched into his mind.

It was one of the last things Arthur Bane ever did.

* * *

A cold, rusty scent overwhelmed him - that faint tang or iron clogging his throat and almost making him gag. It smelt like mould accumulated over centuries, stale sweat and...blood? Wrinkling his nose, he continued down the dark corridor, wondering why it was so abandoned. Usually, in the daytime, it would be flooded with pupils decked out in the black and gold that the Starkweather boys were so renowned for. There would be shouts reverberating through the corridor, the clang of metal lockers being slammed shut and the flurry of hurried footsteps at the shriek of the bell. But now there was...nothing. Just silent darkness.

Alec missed the daylight. He knew without looking that there was no weak rays of sun behind the thick velvet curtains covering the dusty windows. It wasn't light but then it wasn't nighttime. It was too dark even for nighttime. Just blacktime. Alec had never felt so lonely In this desolate school with only the sounds of his thudding footsteps on the varnished wooden floors. They echoed painfully around the hollow walls. Too loud and piercing.

Then, a trickle of sound. Alec paused. He could just hear a very faint tinkling of water. You would miss it easily but it was loud music to Alec's empty ears. He followed the sound, rounding endless corners, rushing through empty classrooms in what was suddenly becoming a never ending Labyrinth.

Finally, he came to one of the bathrooms, where the sound was strongest. It also happened to be where the smell was strongest. Alec could now barely breathe through the overpowering stench. He suddenly didn't want to look around the corner or see what was inside because somehow he knew he wouldn't like what he found.

But he was being irrational. There was probably no-one even there, just a neglected tap that someone had forgotten to turn off.

Right?

His footsteps now pounded through his head as they met with the harsh white, tiled floor. A part of him expected it to be splattered in blood like paint on a canvas. But why would he think that? There was nothing sinister going on, probably a completely innocent reason as to why the school was was silent and abandoned.

Still, he was glad to find no sinister substance on the floor. Just a black haired boy standing in front of one of the sinks. Will, Alec realised with a start. His friend.

"Will!" he called, his voice hoarse from misuse. His friend didn't turn around. Will's head was bent over the running tap - presumably the source of the sound Alec had been following.

"Will?" asked Alec as he took a few more hesitant steps forward. Again, Will didn't reply. He seemed intent on furiously scrubbing his hands raw. "What are you..." Alec began.  
But then he looked down. Will was still scrubbing away, his hands a livid red and scored with little white scratches. But they were also covered in some silver gooey substance, kind of a blood like consistency, which seemed to be sticking to his hands. Alec felt a jolt as he saw it, almost a feeling of...recognition?

Finally, Will spoke, his tone dry, as if he were discussing the weather. "I can't get it off Alec," he said, holding up his hand and inspecting it curiously as if examining a newspaper or a microscope slide. The silver glinted in the light, dripping onto the white, tiled floor. _Why is it silver?_ Wondered Alec. _Why not red or blue?_

And then: _what the hell has Will been doing anyway? What...is it?_ For some reason, he really didn't want to ask that question; afraid of the answer.

Alec swallowed nervously, an unpleasant prickling sensation dotting his spine as he tried to ignore the sudden foreboding atmosphere: tense as a coiled spring.

Will's voice persisted. "Whatever I do, I can't get it off. Soap, scrubbing, even bleach." He gestured to a carton of bleach lying abandoned on the floor. It looked nearly empty. Alec winced at the thought of pouring an entire bottle of a Domestos on scrubbed skin. He could see irritated burns beginning to appear on Will's light skin.

However, Will's eyes merely narrowed determinedly and he turned back to viciously scrubbing his hands with a scourer. _It must hurt like hell,_ thought Alec. Will was muttering under his breath but he seemed to be in no form of pain, his face blank and impassive. His movements, however, were frantic. Yet he was right. No matter what he did it simply didn't disappear. In fact, Alec noticed grimly that the silver liquid seemed to be multiplying, overflowing over the sink and staining Will's crisp white shirt with delicate silver.

_Silver. Silver. Silver Why is it silver?_ The thought haunted Alec's mind and he desperately racked his brains, trying to remember why the colour silver was in any way significant.

"I just simply can't get the bloody stuff off." Will huffed in annoyance.

_**Bloody.**_

Then Alec asked The Question. The one that he'd been too afraid to ask. "W-what is it?" Because he had a horrible sinking feeling as he looked down at those long pale fingers, covered in silver, covered in...

"Blood," answered Will calmly.

He met Alec's eyes in the smeared mirror, smiling in that warm way that Alec had once found so reassuring but now felt like a tonne of ice poured down his back. Alec noted with a start that Will's eyes were black, completely black. It was almost as bad as the haunting silver.

"Do you want to know who's blood it is?" asked Will, tilting his head to the side in a way that reminded Alec of a savage beast, looking out for it's next prey.

Alec already knew who the blood belonged to.

And he knew that it would never come off.

* * *

Alec awoke gasping in a fitful sweat, his body shaking with violent tremors. The plain blue walls of his bedroom had never looked so heavenly. He didn't know what he would do if they were silver. Probably scream. Every. Single. Time.

At first, the nightmare had visited him every night without fail for a year. He supposed it was logical since it was actually a terribly warped and twisted version of a memory, a memory Alec hadn't really been able to forget. Recently however, the nightmare had been visiting less and less often. He'd been making sure to go to bed either really late so that he was too exhausted to dream or to pump his system with alcohol before. That usually did the trick. Usually. It hadn't happened that often in weeks, months even.

_Why now_? he wondered. Shivering, he reached one goose-bump covered arm to retrieve his phone - a first reflex.

He blinked blearily at the bright screen. But the first thing he noticed was not the two new text messages or the time (too late to arrive to school on time).

It was the date. 27th October.

_Shit_, he groaned inwardly. _That's_ why.

Alec stretched and pulled the comforting sheets back over his head, blocking out all memories of silver and Will.

* * *

**Thoughts? Theories? Jokes? Anything? :)**


	17. Weakness

***Don't own it.***

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! I got a lot of 'WTFs' but I was kind of expecting it and reading back it was quite a WTFy chapter. Hee hee, I like keeping you all in the dark and I'm sorry but the answers aren't coming this chapter. ****Well, maybe some of you might figure it out. Some are close...*cough* veryclose *cough***

** So I was hoping to get this one out sooner but...Christmas happened and this chapter is the longest one yet and has been a nightmare. Anyway, ****I hope everyone _had_ a Merry Christmas and a happy new year! :)**

**This one's a bit of a sad chapter because it's about loss, hence the quote. But wait, when are the chapters in this story not sad? I think I've only just realised that now... *smacks head* It has its good moments towards the end though and guess what? Malec actually talk. They have some more good moments and interaction to come in the next few chapters so stay tuned!**

* * *

_"She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum."_ - Jonathan Safran Foer

* * *

It's funny how quickly someone can be forgotten. Well, actually it's not funny. It's rather sad unless one has a taste for particularly black humour. But it happens nonetheless.

It had been a year.

Exactly a year for Alicante to recover from the loss of one of its brightest and most talented residents - faded away beneath the murky waters of Lake Lynn. The lake that now twinkled wickedly in the grey morning light.

It was a beautiful day. That is, it was a beautiful day everywhere else. Instead, the cacophony of trees hanging overhead the lake seemed to snatch the waking sunshine, only letting a few slithers filter through the greedy branches and onto the frigid water. There was no amount of sunlight, however, that could warm the still waters. An eerie silence was strung through the dense air, pulled taut like a string about to break. No birdsong could be heard. No birds lived in the trees. Odd. It was all very odd. But no-one dared question it for fear of what they might find in the answers. Sometimes, it's best not knowing.

Many were still scared of going anywhere near Lake Lynn's notoriously deceptive waters although they couldn't actually remember the source of the fear. Perhaps they were scared of the secrets hidden beneath its dark blue depths. Some - the old, suspicious types - believed the very water itself was laced with poison. Others believed it was the debris of more sinister human activities that littered the deepst pasrts of the ancient lake.

Of course, most were not scared at all. They had forgotten the reason to _be_ scared - or buried the reason in some dark, hidden place more like. Children would no doubt ice skate over its surface that winter if it was frozen enough, the sounds of pealing laughter and clumsiness settling with a deep thud in the omnipresent trees. The waters would remain eerily still underneath, waiting patiently for a crack.

And then a delicious scream to add to its collection of the fallen.

He had only been young - 17 they said. A musician with his head so far in the clouds he could barely see the ceiling. But his grandfather had instilled in him from a young age to dream big and get out.

_"You can go everywhere you've ever dreamed of and more my darling boy. Just keep sawing away at those strings."_

After saying this, his grandfather had promptly handed him his violin. The little boy had gasped. He didn't know which was one was older or more famous: the violin or his grandfather. It was a huge honour. He couldn't even touch the thing for weeks let alone play it. But his dear grandfather had arthritis and didn't want to see the beauty go to waste. So it didn't.

Oh, the young boy dreamed big alright. It was always a certainty - never a question - that he would make it big. He turned into one of the brightest musicians his age. Not many could match his skill but luckily, the boy didn't let it go to his head. He was a sweet boy. The sweetest. It just added to the tragedy of it all when his 17 year old body was found in the lake the morning of October 28th with very little evidence as to how it got there. And the boy, like his grandfather, was now dead - buried with his violin at a friend's request.

He never got further than the gates of the glass city. The budding musician was cut down in his prime, some might say. It was a shame, a terrible shame. And nobody really knew how it happened. Most people had grown to accept that they wouldn't ever really know what happened to the boy who had left such a big mark on all of their hearts that fateful night.

However, it was obviously a mark not quite memorable enough. The investigation had been closed despite the numerous doubts, leaving many people's minds at rest. The teen had drowned, a mere slip. An accident. They were now able to ice skate freely and forget the tragedy and the boy with the violin.

It was like it never happened at all.

In fact, the day of the 27th dawned bright and cheery as if even the sky had forgotten what terrible act happened a year ago. The memorable date brought about only one or two priests nervously crossing themselves and a few brief words spoken in school assemblies, mainly warnings and reminders to stay safe rather than commemorating the actual death. No memories. No grief.

Of course, there was a handful of people closest to the tragic musician who shed bucketfuls of tears. The year had not blurred the memory for them, the hallow space in their heart had not yet caved in and a darkness tainted their vision. They there not as blissfully oblivious as others and had no luxury of closure. They believed in their hearts that this was no accident.

But no matter if they remembered or not, there was one thing every person in Alicante felt secretly inside. It was conveyed silently through nods of acknowledgment and the occasional glint catching in eyes.

They were just that tiny bit glad that it wasn't them.

* * *

It was unusually sunny. Magnus sighed as he watched the last few dregs of fog clinging to church steeples burn away in the sunshine.

Sadly, it did nothing to thaw the damage done last night. Rain clouds still littered the somber teen's mind, dumping teardrops over his every thought and action. It had been a persistent presence. Last night was just the culmination of years of worry and clashing resentment. And all of it revolved around his mother.

It was sad but some small, ten year old part of himself still actually expected her to be cooking downstairs when he woke up, waiting for him with a hug and a pancake. This part was always crushed when he saw his mother's door firmly closed in the morning. It seemed to be more symbolic than anything of their entire existence for the years preceding her husband's death: Artemis locked away and Magnus on the other side of the door, desperately scrabbling to be let inside.

Magnus wished more than anything that his dad was here. Arthur Bane would know exactly what do. Magnus still remembered throughout his childhood whenever his mama was upset or sick, his father would go into their room and whisper some gentle words. He used to bet Magnus how long it would take for him to get her laughing again. Magnus always lost. It was never long until she was laughing again, the sound somehow ringing through the solid oak door that Magnus had his small ear pressed against. But Magnus wasn't funny like his father.

And Artemis Bane hadn't laughed in a long time.

He impatiently pushed away all thoughts of his mother that polluted his head, hoping they'd dissipate just as easily as the fog he'd seen. Magnus needed to focus once in a while if he was to get anywhere.

And with that resolving thought, he steeled himself and entered the school.

_Welcome to another day in Alicante Hell_.

* * *

"Get your lazy ass out of bed," an irritated voice buzzed in his ear, "and drag it to school. Now."

Alec groaned as he automatically got up and started to get dressed. He actually hadn't been asleep. Nightmares usually left him far too wide awake, like ice cold water. Alec shuddered.

"Why?" He whined. He had been awake but that didn't mean that he had planned to actually _go_ to school.

"Um, because it's _school_." Alec rolled his eyes. _No shit_. Aline thought she was so damn clever. It was probably this trait which annoyed the hell out of everyone - including him. Honestly, he didn't know how he dealt with it sometimes. He realised with a start that Aline was speaking again. "...have to go dumbass if you don't want to get kicked out. Plus, we haven't been seen together in a while and we need to make it look..."

Alec cut Aline off. "No, why did I give you my phone number and agree to this?" He could hear Aline's huff of annoyance. "Well, if you want me to tell everyone about your little secret then go ahead, laze the day away."

"I have pictures," she added as an afterthought.

Alec raised his head sharply. "Of what?" Aline hadn't mentioned this before.

"Of you and Sparkles making sickly puppy dog faces over the piano."

Alec sighed. That was two of his weaknesses in one: Magnus and the piano. Muttering 'bitch' under his breath, he grabbed his keys, school bag and, catching sight of the familiar white box, some ibuprofen. He was going to need it.

As if to solidify this thought, Aline asked. "Why are you being such a whiny bitch about it anyway?" Alec could just see in his mind that she would be rolling her eyes and inspecting her nails indifferently.

"It's just...a bad day." Alec didn't know why he'd said it. But there it was. Maybe it was just because he knew everyone would have forgotten, pushed it away like it was nothing. People's heart's didn't have enough room to harbour tragedy for every little thing. It was _sorry for your loss_ and then move on. But Alec couldn't move on. He had often wondered if there was something wrong with him. Maybe he had a problem. A problem with letting things go. When he was 12 he had gone into a 3 month mourning period for one of his pets - complete with black funeral attire. Hs mother had been inches away from calling a counsellor.

No, Alec was not normal when it came to grief. He should have known that losing a person would be a thousand times worse than a one week old hamster. The grieving would never be over. Not for him. He was closed off, constantly dressed in head to toe in black. Like a locked vault without a combination. He often wondered if it would always be like this from now on: empty, everything a little bit more lacklustre everyday. All because he no longer had his best friend's beautiful music to guide him through their small minded piece of the world.

Maybe that was why he was so surprised by Magnus Bane with his sparkly eyes that just _popped_. He was so bright, like a multicoloured firework in the middle of a black and white film.

Alec felt too much, he knew that. It was why he forced himself into situations where he wouldn't have to feel. Popularity had no feelings. It was safe. It made Alec feel secure, un breakable. And Magnus Bane would bring with him that shit load of feelings. Alec didn't want that, but that didn't stop him from watching the bright boy with his sunshine filled eyes from afar. Magnus Bane had no idea that he had the ability to unravel Alec just with his eyes. Alec liked to keep it that way. He watched Magnus more than he would like to admit. Is it healthy to rely on someone you barely know to get through your day?

Probably not but Alec had always had a problem with addictions.

"Oh, I'm sorry Alec. He died a year ago today didn't he? I had no idea... You know you really don't have to..." Alec wasn't listening to Aline's empty guilt. He only felt a vague surprise that she'd actually remembered. But it was secondhand, like watching a stranger be surprised and not him. He was just hoping that he would see those eyes like popping candy. No, not hoping, he was hanging onto that thought. It was the only way he would get through the day. _Keep your distance. Keep your distance. _He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

"I'll be there in ten," he muttered before hanging up.

* * *

Usually in the mornings, Magnus would meet up with Will next to his locker and they would walk together to their first class. It was terribly marital and sappy and yet both relied on it and wouldn't change the routine for anything.

However, today seemed to be an exception to the routine. Will wasn't there. Magnus could see his retreating form down the corridor though which meant the black haired boy had seen him. He was avoiding him and wasn't even being sibtle about it by the looks of his locker door still gaping open carelessly. Will always made sure to lock his locker, especially in a school like this.

Magnus frowned, peering into the near empty space. He didn't know why, but he'd never seen the inside of Will's locker and he was quite curious about it. His own locker was littered with old make-up jars and broken pens and had an unmistakable scent of cinammon - probably from all of the lattes he picked up on his way to school. It was all he had to show for his peronality in this bleak school. No pictures, just clutter - mindless clutter.

Will's locker, however, was very bare and utilitarian with only a few books and a faint smell of disuse - complete opposites to his personal paradise. Magnus really should have expected it, Will being the closed off person he was. In fact, Magnus almost missed the sole picture hanging forlornly in the corner. He examined it closer.

It was of three boys all with toothy grins and decked out in muddy sports gear. Will was clearly in the middle of the picture although he looked considerably younger - about 12 Magnus guessed - with huge big glasses too big for his face perched precariously on a cute button nose (Magnus assumed Will now wore contact lenses but he would have to tease him about it later). The glasses seemed to intensify the blue of his eyes which lead Magnus to wonder why he got rid of them.. In mini Will's hands, was a shiny gold trophy which was slightly too small for Magnus to make out the inscription on it. He guessed they'd won some sort of sporting competition.

On either side of Will were two boys, both with their arms around him. The boy on the left had very pretty, delicate feautures. Magnus guessed he was part Chinese. But what really stood out was the unusual tint in his hair. Magnus thought it must have been the flash on the camera because his eyes and hair looked almost...silver.

And then the boy on Will's right, Magnus realised with a start, was Alec. He looked very different. So different, in fact, that he barely recognised him. For one, he still had traces of baby fat on his rosy cheeks and his hair was somehow even messier than it was now. His eyes were what confused Magnus though. They didn't hold that worm, faded quality which seemed so apparent now. Instead, they were filled with an internal delight. _Where has it all gone?_ Wondered Magnus. It was as if the boy had aged a century in less than a decade.

And where had the other boy gone?

He quickly shut the door as he heard the shrill bell resound through the corridor, snapping the padlock back into place before setting off to his fist class. English - with Will...

_I'm going to ask him about it_, thought Magnus as he resolutely marched towards his lesson. Magnus was tired of secrets. _And those haunting silver eyes_...

* * *

"Hey," Magnus approached a little warily as he plonked his bag on the desk and sat down next to Will who just so happened to be his English partner. Surprise, surprise.

His partner's head was cradled in his lap and sort of angled away from Magnus. Will clenched his jaw before finally spitting out a quick greeting which sounded rough and gravelly - not like his eloquent wording at all.

Magnus frowned. The boy was a proper English gentleman usually. Once, on a particularly busy and stressful day, he'd even carried Magnus' bag for him - much to Magnus' chagrin. So it was unlike him to be so rude and gruff.

"Will, is there something...wrong?" asked Magnus hesitantly. Here was his chance to broach the topic.

Will shook his head, his black hair hiding his eyes completely. Magnus sighed before impatiently tucking a hand under the stubborn boy's chin and tilting it up. He let out a short breath when he saw the red rimmed eyes and tired purple bags rimming the usual navy blue eyes.

"You look like..."

"Hell," Will supplied, squirming away from Magnus' touch.

"You've been crying," Magnus finished disapprovingly.

Will shrugged before turning to gaze stonily out the window at the concrete car park beyond it. "There must be _something_ wrong," Magnus hedged.

"That time of the month," Will replied in monotone.

Magnus ground his teeth. "That's not even funny."

"Wasn't meant to be," Will bit back and Magnus huffed in frustration. He began emptying the contents of his bag onto the desk with a lot more force than necessary and in his daze forgot that he didn't even need a calculator in English.

Mrs Tilly - the English teacher - must have noticed his racket as she looked up from her computer. "Magnus is there a problem?"

"No," the boy replied curtly.

The teacher narrowed her grey eyes. "How about you take these," she rummaged in the desk drawer and retrieved a pack of make-up wipes, "and wipe your face in the bathroom. Take all of that..." She gestured to his face..."off."

Magnus stood up, ready to follow her orders but something just...snapped inside of him. Everything suddenly seemed so heavy, like he was carrying a boulder. And he thought about it for a moment. Why did he have to deal with it? Why did he always have to be the responsible one in the family? Why did he have to listen to Will's closed off responses all the time? Why was he the only one who had to take off his make-up?

"No."

He looked at Mrs Tilly for a moment in her stupid yellow dress and blue blazer that looked absolutely hideous. He supposed she might have been pretty with her doleful grey eyes and warm, chestnut brown hair. But there were angry lines cutting through her delicate feautures - years of stress - and her hair was chopped severely below her jaw. Her make-up was also, ironically, too overpowering with heavy blusher coating her cheekbones and bright scarlet lipstick smeared messily over pursed lips. "What?" She seemed a little startled.

"How about you tell Ellie and Jessica to take off theirs?" Magnus said slowly, naming a few regular offenders. A few indignant noises followed this remark.

"What?" Repeated Mrs Tilly, sounding the complete opposite to an English teacher.

"Look at them," he said. Mrs Tilly did. "Are you trying to tell me that _they're_ not wearing make-up. Because I think it's pretty clear who's more..._subtle_." Magnus wasn't sure why he was getting so angry about this. He'd been told before and usually just trooped out without a comment. Maybe it was because he knew without his make-up the cracks and the dark patches would show.

Plus, he had a pretty good point. He always made sure to be extra subtle with his make-up. No glitter, as much as it pained him to do so. He wasn't about to jump to allegations and claim he was always reprimanded because he was a boy but...it looked awfully like it. Most of the girls were fucking orange and they just sat smugly in their seats as he walked past them every single day. No, he would not do that again. Magnus would not walk past them one more time.

"Magnus," Will hissed. "What are you doing?" The boy shrugged and smiled. He knew Will wouldn't understand. Will wasn't obviously gay so he didn't experience the same prejudices that Magnus did. Plus, Will was the perfect student, getting straight A*s in everything and never putting a foot wrong. Magnus had often wondered why the clearly intelligent boy didn't attend some posh private school but never questioned it.

"Magnus," the English teacher spoke again in a weary tone, reminding Magnus of where he was. "I think that you should..."

It was just then that someone entered the classroom - head bent and shoulders hunched over. Alec. Magnus didn't even know he took this class so he was a little surprised.

His surprise was not alone; Mrs Tilly nearly dropped her reading glasses although she quickly recovered. "Ah Alexander Lightwood, glad to see you've deigned us worthy of your presence. Why, may I ask, have we not been better acquainted before?" Mrs Tilly asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

It was clear that everyone expected Alec to say some snarky comment as they all turned to him, smirks on their faces. However, the boy merely shrugged, shrinking in on himself. Magnus struggled to hold back a gasp. Alec looked so identical to Will in that moment. Magnus almost thought they were the same person; connected in their sombre like appearance. Withdrawn.

Will looked up for a moment and caught Alec's eye. The ferocity of the burning rage in Alec's baby blues startled Magnus. He quickly glanced over to Will who had settled his head back in its original dejected position.

Meanwhile, Mrs Tilly was placing a huge pile of work in the delinquent's hands. "You have a tremendous amount of work to catch up on Mr Lightwood," she observed with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

Magnus almost felt sorry for Alec. That is, until the young boy smiled his own shit-eating grin. It looked terribly forced, like a rubber band stretched tight across his skin. "Oh don't worry, I'm not stopping." Alec said, dropping the pile of work on the floor so that it fell in an inelegant spray of papers.

The teacher, along with the majority of the class, let out a gasp. Her tone turned ice cold. "You will if you want to pass." Mrs Tilly narrowed her eyes.

Alec looked like he was considering it for a minute. "Not really. No." He shrugged and met Mrs Tilly's eyes.

There was a tenuous silence for a few minutes and Magnus could see the woman clearly trying to keep it together, "Lovely," she exclaimed with forced brightness. Magnus couldn't help but feel that this was a regular occurrence: Alec annoying the shit out of teachers. He was just about to sit down, thinking that he was off the hook. "You can escort Magnus here to the headmaster's office. It seems he isn't as acquainted with it as well as you are."

Magnus couldn't feel a little saddened at the blank look in Alec's eyes as he turned to look a him but then... Was that? An infinitesimal spark of something before it was smothered. Magnus tried not to get his hopes up as Alec quickly mumbled something, his little burst of confidence gone. Magnus took this as his cue to get up and collect his stuff. He didn't think he'd be coming back for a while.

The teen didn't look at Will as he shut the door behind him. So he missed the pained look on the boy's pretty face. And he missed the fact that he was the one putting it there.

* * *

"I didn't know you took English Lit." Magnus had only said it to break the silence that seemed to stifle them through the 5 minute journey. He'd wanted to say something more clever or witty to the boy who had been unknowingly polluting his dreams - both waking and subconscious - but that was what came out.

And now Alec was sending him a scathing look. "Neither did I," he eventually replied, shrugging. "My parents signed me up for it."

Magnus nodded. "Do they do that a lot?"

"Do what?" Alec looked up sharply.

"Sign you up for things that you don't really want to do," Magnus answered, like it was obvious.

Alec stopped walking. No-one had ever asked him about his parents and certainly no-one had ever picked up on that. Magnus was scarily perceptive "They used to," he muttered, staring at his shoes for a bit. How was it that with Magnus he said more in a few seconds than he had with anyone else in years? _Weakness. _He had a weakness for this boy. And he was only just starting to realise it. "I don't like talking about them." He continued walking.

"Oh." Magnus resisted the urge to slap his head. _What the hell is oh_? "Sorry," he mumbled.

"You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault they're assholes." Magnus resisted the urge to point out that Alec was talking about them but feared it would spoil the mood. Alec was being uncharacteristically talkative - for him . It was kind of strange in a good way and he wanted it to last.

"Well done, by the way." The words sort of tumbled out of Alec's mouth without his consent.

Magnus looked at him confusedly. "What did I do?"

"Stood up for yourself," Alec said. Was Magnus imagining the twinkle in his eye?

He shot Alec a slightly confused look.

"I heard your make-up battle with Mrs Tilly when I was standing outside the door," Alec said in answer to Magnus' confusion.

"Oh that. Yeah..." Magnus scratched the back of his neck - one of his few nuances. "I was just really angry but now I kind of...regret it."

Alec raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I mean," Magnus continued. "It felt good at the time. Powerful." Alec nodded. He knew the feeling well - the rush of liquid steel through the veins that made you want to shout forever. Magnus was still talking, "but now it's kind of scary." He looked down at his hands in what Alec thought was a rather bashful and...cute way. His heart fluttered. _Stupid heart. Shut up._

"He won't even be there," the shorter boy said - to reassure Magnus even if he didn't know why. Magnus looked at him blankly, tilting his head to the side. _And please don't do that. You look like a puppy. A really cute puppy_. Alec cleared his throat. "The head master, that is. This is his golfing session. He won't be back for a good few hours. As long as his, um, 'skills' haven't improved." Alec rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's a crap golfer. It takes him about 10 shots a hole and he hits more people and trees than he does balls. I think the school loses thousands of pounds a year just paying for all of his lost golf balls."

Magnus smiled a little, stifling a giggle as he was painfully aware that they were near a classroom. "So...what are you saying?" he asked.

Alec looked almost nervous, or was Magnus just imagining it? Of course, he had no idea of the internal battle going on inside the teen. _What are you doing idiot? What happened to watching from afar?_ "Well, I don't know about you, but I would rather not sit in an office that smells of piss for hours waiting for him to wrap up his game - which he will no doubt lose." Magnus decided not to question Alec's profound knowledge of the headmaster's social life and office. He didn't want to know.

"Where would we go?" the lanky teen asked after a minute of deliberation.

A slow smile crept onto Alec's lips. "I have an idea."

Magnus looked a bit uncertain for a minute. They would probably get in shitloads of _more _trouble if discovered but Alec was looking at him with those eyes - sad and lonely and just a little lost leaving Magnus torn in two. He wasn't the only one.

"Do you trust me?" asked the piano player, holding out a hand.


	18. Of Piercings and Rainbow Shoes

**Don't own it.**

** Hi... I'm back *lame fanfare*. I know some of you will probably be a bit mad that this is so late. I'm one of them. I know how annoying it is when an author doesn't update and then when you do you have to read back and...yeah, not good. 2013 has just been...well, crap. And I thought 2012 was bad. It's been a culmination of things and I just lost all motivation to write. But well, here's a chapter...I'm not really sure what's going on it though (this story's so bipolar). Anyway, I thought I should at least post something so here it is.**

* * *

'_You always zig when I think you're about to zag and I just love that about you.'_

* * *

_"Do you trust me?" asked the piano player, holding out a hand_

The sunlight lazily filtered through the old, huge glass windows. It cast a hazy glow over everything, making even the stale, plastic corridors with the poorly chosen colour schemes seem warm. Maybe it was a sign. A sign for him to trust Alec.

Magnus took his hand.

"We're not going off campus, right?" he asked. He intentionally ignored the spark that shot down his arm. Just a little static electricity never hurt anyone. It didn't feel half bad either.

He was rewarded with the crescent moon of Alec's smile as he tugged them down the hall, the slight shake of his head the only answer to Magnus' question.

"Don't worry." He said with a heart shattering smile as he quietly lead Magnus through the school. Magnus didn't protest. Because he did stupidly trust Alec which was why they were now holding hands and neither of them had let go. How could Magnus let go when Alec was looking at him with those big blue eyes? Hell, why didn't they just do this for the rest of their lives? Never let go.

"This feels so badass," Magnus blurted out as they ducked behind a row of bookshelves to avoid a teacher. He immediately felt stupid afterwards and would quite happily permanently superglue his lips together.

Alec looked at him with an indecipherable expression and Magnus thought that maybe just a small slither of childlike delight was hidden amongst the somber blue. It was gone before Magnus could truly identify it. "Join the club," Alec remarked dryly. "It sucks."

"Then why do it?" asked the taller boy, searching his eyes.

Alec looked at the floor. "To feel safe," he said firmly, making it rather obvious to Magnus that he has to reassure himself a lot. "It's always nicer to be scary than to be scared, don't you think?"

Magnus' bright eyes searched Alec's own. For what, he didn't know."I wouldn't know. I've never been scary," he admitted. _But I've been scared._ He glanced down at their hands which were remarkably still joined from when he'd symbolically taken it just a few seconds ago. Alec looked down as well and rather hastily removed his. Magnus swallowed down the bitter taste of disappointment. _Why should it matter? He shouldn't even be speaking to me anyway._

"You can be scary," Alec said a little shakily, voice littered with uncertainty. He swallowed. "...when you want to be."

A moment of silence followed until Alec cleared his throat, motioning for Magnus to follow him. He didn't take the taller boy's hand again. "Is there a particular purpose to this trip?" Magnus asked, narrowing his eyes as they travelled further down a maze of empty corridors into what seemed to be a more deserted part of the school. Alec didn't offer any answer but he turned to face him as he opened the door for Magnus. Clearly there were some manners ingrained in this boy. _That's all it is_, Magnus reminded himself.

"Where are we?" he asked, avoiding Alec's eyes which he knew to have the ability to turn him into soggy, illiterate mush. This was his chance to have a proper conversation with him and he was damn well going to utilise it.

"Did you know it's our one month anniversary?" Alec mumbled. And of all the things Magnus expected the piano player to say, this was deep down at the bottom of his list along with 'I'm secretly a cross dresser.'

He tripped over in shock, the smaller boy reaching out a hand to steady him. "Damn shoe laces," Magnus mumbled, indicating his shoes. He then wished he hadn't because he had unwisely chosen to wear his rainbow sneakers this morning. _Did Alec almost...giggle?_

"Is it really our anniversary?" Magnus asked, diverting the attention away from his flamboyant shoes. _How unexpectedly sweet_. "You know next time you want to plan a romantic date you should just ask me beforehand Alexander instead of waiting for me to get in trouble," Magnus teased. "I would have said yes. I might even have brought a present. Magnus winked and watched his work unfold as a blush stained Alec's fair skin all the way to the roots of his hair.

Alec glared at him. "I'll keep that in mind," was all he said though. "I don't actually know if it is or not," Alec added hastily as if afraid of someone finding the date circled with a love heart in his diary. "Around about that time. But, yeah, I thought it'd be...nice. Symbolic and all that shit. I mean we don't have to stay. There's the bike shed which no-one uses. You know, where all the cool kids go." He was rambling. They were both rambling to be honest.

"Alec," Magnus cut him off firmly and the boy's head snapped up as if Magnus had him on a puppet string. The tall boy sucked in a breath as his eyes were assaulted with another wave of cerulean blue. "Do I look like I'm the type to go for a quick smoke behind the stereotypical school shed?"

Alec simply smirked shyly. Which is ridiculous if you think about it because how can someone smirk _shyly_? Alec somehow managed to pull it off, frazzling Magnus' brain in the process. "Do I look like a badass?" He asked sarcastically, knowing the answer if his his newly purchased rainbow sneakers were anything to go by.

"I don't think so," answered Alec, his eyes lighting up in amusement. "You don't smoke, you were very reluctant to skip class, you looked scared shitless when you finally stood up to the teacher...any hidden piercings or tattoos I should know about?" he finished.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "No," he spluttered. A beat passed. "Do you?" he finally asked.

Alec smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No," Magnus sniffed, feigning indifference. "I don't..." Alec was staring at him, still gently teasing. "How many?" he relented. The idea of Alec having piercings was too good to pass up.

The boy seemed to consider it for a moment, counting on his fingers. "Five."

Magnus narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."

"Fine, seven." Alec laughed outright at Magnus' slightly stunned had actually expected the number to be lower. For someone who blushes that much can _not_ have that many piercings and tattoos.

"More often that not I was drunk," the rebellious boy admitted. "And some dickhead convinced me it was a good idea. But, not my first one," he revealed softly. "That-that was all me and my..." He broke off, brushing his hair back from his face. It was then that Magnus caught the glint of the silver stud in his ear - the left ear. He bit back the feeling of unease that built up and also the mental images of all of the possible places for Alec's...piercings.

"I bet I find all of them by the end of the year," Magnus blurted out suddenly before clapping his hand over his mouth. What if they were in..._intimate places_. That sounded so flirtatious and he'd never even meant to..."I mean..." He quickly tried to backpedal.

But to his surprise Alec chuckled, the beautiful melody dancing happily across the walls. "Five pounds says you won't." He held out his hand again.

Magnus never could resist a challenge. "Make it ten and you're on," he replied smoothly, sucking in a breath as their skin connected once again, complete opposites: pale on tan, hot on cold. Strangely exhilarating. "I've already found one," he said nodding at Alec's ear.

The boy shrugged. "Everyone knows about that one. That shouldn't even be counted. I got it in Claire's I think."

Magnus laughed."Baby steps," he replied winking. "You find a lot more when you're actually looking for it."

And then Alec was shuffling a little on his feet, suddenly nervous. Magnus was confused by how easily he switched personality's. He gazed around the room, not surprised to find that they were in the music room. Magnus internally cringed as he remembered he'd been too caught up with Alec to realise what room they were even in.

"No-one ever comes here." Alec broke the silence. "One of the perks of music being so unpopular," he added with a grim smile.

"Do you do music?" asked Magnus, as Alec started to gravitate towards the piano in the centre of the room as if it had some strange magnetic force pulling him towards it.

"You mean generally or..."

"For A-level," Magnus clarified.

"Oh. You know I don't really go in for school and all that. Too stressful. I'm thinking of quitting altogether actually but..." Alec stalled. Magnus tilted his head disapprovingly. He puffed out his cheeks which, in Magnus' mind, just made him all the more adorable. "I...I used to," Alec said vaguely. He was now standing directly next to the piano, almost stroking the cover reverently, as if it were some music God. He uncovered it smoothly and tentatively brushed the keys, as if afraid to make a note. He abruptly swivelled and faced Magnus. "I got my A-level in one year," he finally admitted. "A*." Then he turned so his back was to Magnus again.

Magnus' eyes widened. "Wow. Alec you're..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he snapped. The beautiful crimson blush creeping up his neck countered the edge to the statement though. It looked so shocking agains the white of his shirt. Magnus sucked in a shaky breath. _Why do the straight guys have to be the pretty ones? Of the confused ones_, he amended.

And it was clear that Alec was straight by the way acted. Or at least he thought he was. Almost everything he did seemed to exude it, down to the placement of his earring - the straight ear. But then there was that one time he'd kissed Magnus so softly on the cheek, like fiery silk against his skin. And how he held his hand every once in a while...

_And how he stands by whilst his friends hurl abuse at you,_ a voice hissed in Magnus' mind. _He probably laughs with them and comes up with new insulting nicknames for you as soon as they're safely around the corner._ Magnus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to silence the incessant noise in his head.

"Magnus? Are you ok?" Alec's concerned voice drifted through the constant noise in his head. Magnus blinked when he realised the boy was standing in front of him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just.. play something" Magnus urged, trying to latch onto a distraction.

Alec's eyes widened. He shook his head slightly. Magnus didn't know that Alec was thinking the exact opposite to him. _Not today. Please not today. I need a distraction, not a cold reminder_.

Magnus pouted. "Why not?"

Alec bit his lip. "Do you know what today is?" he asked.

Slightly confused by the abrupt change in topic but willing to go along with it, Magnus quickly replied. "No." He liked to think he was getting used to conversation with Alec being treated like a yo-yo.

Alec closed his eyes. "It's my friend's birthday," he said.

"Oh, how old is he going to be?" Magnus asked with a smile, wondering what the hell this had to do with the piano.

"He would have been 18 today." Magnus noticed the subtle difference.

"Oh." He paused uncertainly. "Shit Alec I'm so..."

"Sorry. I know. Everyone is." Alec had unknowingly drifted back over to the piano, the old bench creaking as he gingerly sat down. "He died on his birthday. Exactly seventeen years."

"How did he..." Magnus began but he quickly shut his mouth at Alec's stone cold expression.

"I...don't feel like talking about it, if you don't mind." Magnus nodded. "And I don't really feel like playing...b-by myself." Alec broke off before sucking in a deep breath. "I tell you what, I'll teach you something. Would that be better?" The smaller boy asked, forcing a smile and patting the bench next to him.

Magnus gulped but dutifully went to sit next to Alec. He was glad it was one of those double benches suitable for two grown adults but he could still feel Alec's warmth at his side. He wouldn't have expected it, what with Alec's hands being so cold. Then again, the boy was filled with little nuances, constant walls and obstacles preventing anyone from getting a glimpse of even a 5 mile radius within his true self.

_Well, at least I'll never get bored. _Magnus thought._ Lost on the other hand..._

"What should we play?" he asked.

"Hmm. Something simple unless you have previous experience?" Alec enquired. Magnus crashed his hand down on the keys loudly and winced. Chuckling, Alec said, "ok. Do you know 'The Scientist' by Coldplay?"

"Oh, they did that on Glee!" Magnus replied without thinking.

Alec blinked, confused by his sudden excited outburst. "What's Glee?" he tilted his head to the side which made him look remarkably similar to a puppy dog.

Magnus gasped over dramatically. "You have so much to learn." He shook his head. "But yes, I do know that song. It's one of my favourites."

"Ok. So you can do the bass-line. Just playing four crotchets and I'll play the... Magnus?" he asked as he saw the other boy's chest shaking a little. "What?"

"I'm sorry but _crotch_ets!"

Alec smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "You are _so_ immature. Crotch, really?" But Magnus could see the slight smile he tried to conceal on his lips. "Fine, what would you suggest we call them then?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Quarter notes, like normal people," Magnus replied without thinking.

"Wait." Alec froze. "You said you didn't have any past musical experience."

_Damnit_.

"I lied," he squeaked. "I used to...usedtoplaythetuba," he said in a rush.

Alec sadly must have remarkable hearing. He bit back a smile. "The tuba?"

Magnus started to blush, a rare occurrence. It was rather nice to have the tables turned for once, Alec thought. _Plus it's kind of cute. Stop it._

Magnus scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, you know how they always get the gullible new kid to sign up for clubs on the first day?" Alec nodded, even though he didn't. He guessed he'd never been the type to look gullible, what with the cigarettes, the leather and now the piercings.

Magnus looked up to the ceiling in embarrassment and pointed at himself. He couldn't believe he was telling the coolest kid in school that he used to play the tuba.

"You were that kid," Alec filled in.

Magnus nodded. "Yep. The bandletes."

"That's...that's the worst name I've ever heard for a band." Alec spluttered.

Magnus nodded and continued. "It sucked even more because the only instrument they had left was this beaten up old tuba and no matter what I did I couldn't make a sound out of the damn thing."

Alec's lips were squeezed tight together. It was a horrible thought to think of people laughing at Magnus but he had to admit that the idea of skinny little Magnus going red n the face trying to make a note out of a humongous instrument was rather funny. "It's ok, you can laugh," Magnus finally said, sighing.

Alec relaxed his lips but what came out was a rather inelegant snort. It was now his turn to blush. "Nice," said Magnus. They looked at each other for a few moments before dissolving into fits of giggles. It wasn't really that funny but maybe they weren't laughing at that, maybe they were laughing at how stupid the whole situation was: the guy with rainbow shoes and an obsession with Glee skipping class with a guy who wore leather. They were the unlikeliest of combinations.

Eventually, they settled down. "Alec, do you think maybe we could try being friends?" Magnus asked tentatively. Immediately, the mood shifted around them and he grew anxious. It was a stupid notion. It would never work out.

However, Alec merely smiled warmly at him. "I thought we already were." Magnus returned the smile and, his courage now restored, he dipped his hand into Alec's blazer pocket. Alec started to protest but settled down when Magnus waved his iPhone at him. He tapped his number into it. "Friends," he said, his head now slightly hazy.

"Friends," Alec replied with something undetectable hiding in his tone.

He smiled breezily. "Now, about that song."

* * *

Alec's hand was still hovering over Magnus' as he tapped out the 4 notes. He was a lot more confident now - albeit a little unsteady with his rhythm. Alec turned out to be a really good teacher, patient and encouraging. It was also an added bonus that a few times he had had to position Magnus' hand - professionally of course. Neither boy knew how the other boy's heart fluttered like a delicate butterfly at the contact.

"Ok, I'll put the rest of the chords and the tune over the top," Alec finally said. "Feel like singing?" he asked.

"Why don't you do it? You clearly know the song," Magnus retorted.

"Trust me, you don't want to hear me sing."

"Tone deaf?" Magnus smirked.

"We'll I'm no Kurt Hummel, if that's what you mean."

An ear splitting grin spread across Magnus' face. "I knew you watched Glee. You're such a bad liar."

Alec blushed and Magnus had to hold back a little sigh at the sight. "Just sing the song Magnus,"he ordered.

"Gladly."

* * *

It turned out that Magnus was actually a pretty good singer. He had a clear, strong voice. Nothing Glee worthy but enough to make Alec's breath catch in his throat. At the start of the song they each snuck little glances at the other until the music had built around them and it seemed to dissolve their reservations as well and they were staring at each other, occasionally missing a note or two but not really caring.

Both were breathing slightly heavier now, not breaking eye contact. A sound of slow clapping broke their little bubble of contentment though and they immediately turned towards the sound. And there in the doorway stood Mrs Tilly in her stupid yellow dress and blue blazer, a small smile perched on her lips. "Very good boys," she said, walking towards them.

"We were just..." Magnus began.

"Save it Mr Bane," the teacher cut him off.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I'm impressed. That was some beautiful music and some great chemistry."

"Chemistry?" Alec asked in a slightly alarmed voice.

"Yes _Lightwood_, and I don't mean textbook worthy. So, I have a proposition for you." She rubbed her small hands together, her eyes twinkling in the light. "I'm sure you're aware that we're holding auditions for our annual Christmas show right about now?"

Alec scoffed but nodded slightly. Mrs Tilly licked her lips. "You audition tonight and I'll forget all about our little...disagreement. In other words, I won't tell your mummy and daddy that you skipped class and back talked in class."

"You...you want me to...I can't...social suicide," Alec spluttered.

Mrs Tilly dropped the smile.

"Believe me, no-one knows how much the Christmas show sucks more than me," she dead panned. "But I get paid and the school likes nothing better than when I convince...unlikely candidates to audition. And since you're such a lost cause Lightwood, I think we're even looking at promotion here." Mrs Tilly's voice dripped with venom and Magnus wondered who the hell would think she should be promoted. She should be kept well away from children...or people, for that matter.

"Why would I want to help you get a promotion?" Alec spat, giving her his best glare.

Mrs Tilly smiled blandly. "Because you're on your last warning," she said brightly. "And you and I both know how this works. At least, I presume you know how it works. You were at the meeting weren't you? One more strike and you're out." Magnus shuddered at the innocent tone in her voice. He hadn't realised just how precarious Alec's situation was. "So I would definitely consider it Lightwood.

"Don't worry." she turned her gaze towards Magnus, eyeing him like he was a bug on her windshield, "you'll have Bane and your...chemistry to keep you company." And with that she turned on her heel and left the room, her heels clacking loudly on the wooden floor.

Alec's head fell forwards onto the piano, the cluster of notes matching the chaos inside his head.

* * *

Magnus was distracted for the rest of the day, his thoughts resembling the jumble of notes from when Alec had dejectedly slammed his head on the piano. Said boy had left the music room with a hurried goodbye, brushing off the whole encounter with Mrs Tilly like it had never happened. Magnus couldn't do that as easily though. He'd always seen teachers as a safety net - distant but still present. Yet Mrs Tilly had looked at him with an unadulterated hate he'd never expected to see from a teacher, from most people really.

Plus, there was still the underlying mystery with Will and Alec, a mystery that was only solidified the more he interacted with both boys. They were driving him crazy, corroding his every moment with those damn blue eyes. Magnus had been embarrassed several times when he had no clue what subject he was even doing and his teacher had asked him a question.

Maybe that was why he got a sinking feeling in his chest when he saw Will. The Herondale boy was clearly waiting for him to get out from his art class, leaning lazily against the wall with a look of careless indifference on his face and his arms crossed. Magnus knew better though. He could see his jaw working - grinding his teeth, the slight red still visible in his eyes and his tense posture. He also couldn't help noting the way all of the other students parted like the Red Sea around him. Did they always do that? Were they scared of him or something?

"Magnus," he called out, looking slightly relieved.

"Oh. Hi Will," he replied unenthusiastically as if he hadn't already seen him.

Will sighed. "Look Magnus, I'm...sorry," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry?" Magnus asked with feigned innocence. "My dear William whatever for?" He put a hand behind his ear exaggeratedly.

Will growled at Magnus' teasing. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Magnus smiled. "Apology accepted. See, that wasn't so hard."

Will didn't smile. He still looked pretty edgy. "What's up?" Magnus asked.

The boy didn't beat around the bush. It was one of the things Magnus both liked and disliked him for. "Look Mag, you might...hear things about me. Bad stuff." Will dragged him into a quieter corner that wasn't in the middle of the hall. "But..." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before gazing at Magnus. "Please don't listen," he begged. "I'll tell you when...when I'm ready. When we're both ready to hear it."

Magnus was a little taken aback at Will's words but admittedly not as surprised as he should be. He now saw the way students almost feared him. _What the hell did Will do?_ he wondered. He badly wanted to ask.

"Is it true? The stuff they say?" Magnus asked instead. He couldn't help it.

Will was silent for a beat too long. "It depends what they say."

And that was that.

Will didn't speak again until they arrived at their usual lunch table and even then it was only to curtly greet the two younger students already occupying the table. There was still something seriously wrong. Magnus frowned.

Clary and Simon on the other hand were completely oblivious to this somber mood. They were in frantic party planning mode, texting blindingly fast and generally making sure that the word was spread to the right people. The right people being anyone but Alec, Aline and the majority of the people on that table. They would probably crash anyway, Magnus realised with a sigh. He really didn't want them to ruin this for Clary. It was the only thing keeping her mind off Alec.

Even still, her green eyes still wandered over to his table wistfully, filling with pain. Magnus was torn between cuddling her close and whispering over and over in her ear that she's beautiful and deserves better or slapping her on the head to remind her that Alec would never return her sentiments. His sexuality was seriously questionable and on top of that there was the fact that he was an asshole 99% of the time. Still, for that other 1% when he wasn't, he could see where Clary was coming from. _Not going to happen_, he reminded himself. _Stop thinking about something that's impossible._

"So Magnus, you're getting the alcohol right?" Clary asked, breaking his musings. She handed a rather large list over the table to him.

Magnus sighed. _Of course there would be alcohol wouldn't there? It's a party full of teenagers_. He guessed it was better than Clary obtaining it through various illegal methods. "Yes," he muttered. Will stiffened beside him, his expression stone cold. When was Will's expression anywhere above freezing recently?

Magnus' eyes bugged out of his head as he scanned through the list. "Clary, this has at least twenty things on it. I'm going to look like an alcoholic." _Plus, it's going to be really tiring to lug it all home. Effort_, was what he was really thinking.

She shrugged apologetically, red curls bouncing on her shoulders. "Sorry Magnus. You're 18 and have ID and I don't want to take any chances with me or Simon being checked."

"Hey!" he protested. "Don't you think I look 18?" He got a stupid look on his face which he presumably thought made him look older.

Clary giggled. "You'd be lucky if you look 14 with that look on your face."

Simon pouted and Clary rubbed his arm in a comforting gesture. Magnus couldn't help noticing the way Simon leaned into the touch eagerly. Didn't he have a girlfriend? Magnus shrugged it off. There were things to be worrying about other than Simon Lewis' supposed love life of all things.

Clary narrowed her eyes, looking at Will. "Wait, you're 18 aren't you Will? You could buy some of it and split the..."

"No," Will snapped.

"What?" the red head asked, startled.

"I don't drink it, I don't buy it and I definitely don't condone it."

"Okaaaay," Clary drawled slowly. "It's just for a little fun Will," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah well, what happens when it goes beyond that?" Magnus wasn't sure but he could have sworn that Will was looking in the general direction of Alec's table. It was yet another hint and tiny fragment to add to the puzzle of their past which Magnus stored away for later.

"An alcoholic Magnus it is, then," Simon said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Are you ok with that Magnus?" Magnus looked over at Will, a completely closed book. He debated for a moment before turning back to Clary's pleading expression.

"Yeah, that's...that's fine," he answered a little hesitantly. Will stood up abruptly and stalked off without a word.

"What's up with him?" asked Clary in a whisper, as if Will could still hear them even though he was halfway out the hall.

Magnus bit his lip, a gesture he realised he'd seen Alec do once or twice, before immediately stopping. "I don't know," he said as he watched Will storm out of the canteen. "But I want to find out. He's been acting weird and moody all day."

"Maybe he's PMSing," offered Simon and Magnus gave him his best bitch please face. The boy shrugged and turned back to his texting.

"I tried to ask him about it," said Magnus. "He said people would be talking about him and not to believe them. Whatever that means." Magnus furrowed his eyebrows and took a pull of his apple juice.

_Talking about him_? thought Clary. _Why today? What happened today?_ Suddenly a light of understanding grew in Clary's eyes. "What's the date?" she asked hurriedly.

"October 27th," Simon said, without missing a beat..

Clary bit her lip and her eyes softened. "How could I have been so stupid?" she muttered, gathering her bag.

"What? What's today?" asked Magnus, half standing up from his seat. Clary gently pushed him down. She wasn't looking at him. She was looking at where Will had left and Magnus knew without a doubt that she was going to follow him and maybe comfort him.

"Jem," Clary whispered, looking at Simon. Understanding flickered between them before she took off towards the exit. For a moment, Magnus felt jealous, a little irritated that Clary got to go to Will instead of him. But he quickly scolded himself. Clary knew Will better than Magnus did. And how can you comfort someone when you don't know what the problem is? He sighed, face planting the table similar to the way Alec had done earlier on. Magnus was just so sick of secrets and half truths.

* * *

**Stupid ending. Stupid chapter. **

**By the way, sorry for the Glee references. My obsessions are mixing. :/ I swear it's only a brief topic of conversation (and quotation), something to bring Malec together (plus, I'm totally obsessed with Glee at the moment so yeah...)**

**I'd appreciate it if you could drop a review. You know, just so I know if anyone's still reading, how you are, stuff like that. :)**


	19. Falling

**Hey everyone. So, I can't begin to express my apologies at how late this update is. I've had really important, big scary exams that actually count towards me getting a job in the future so I've had to focus on that for a while. Luckily, I've recently come into a small pocket of time and inspiration so here's quite a long (for me) chapter. I hope you all kind of enjoy it in a weird way. **

* * *

_"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder." _

- Octave Mirbeau

* * *

"Will!" A pattering of footsteps. "Will!"

Will ignored it, matching on. The voice was getting closer and closer though. "William fucking Herondale!"

"What?" he barked, whipping around to see Clary looking up at him, her eyes wide with sorrow and regret. She must know what day it is. Will blinked fast, feeling a horrible pricking of tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Oh Will," Clary sighed softly, tugging him gently into the nearest empty classroom.

"If you're here to express condolences you're about 365 days too late," Will snapped. "But you'll be the first."

No-one expresses sympathies for Will Herondale.

"You still miss him" Clary stated gently, ignoring his biting remark. It wasn't a question. The pain was etched into Will's very being. Everything he did was weighed down with misery. Especially today. How could she have been so stupid to ask him that at lunch today? How could she have forgotten so soon?

Will closed his eyes and collapsed on to the desk. "Everyday," he breathed. Clary perched on the desk next to him, wrapping her arms around him. They were so delicate. Will felt they would break like matchsticks at a single gust of wind. Yet they felt like they were the only thing keeping the pieces of him together.

As Will began shaking, Clary made soothing noises in his ear, brushing through his hair softly. It reminded Will of his childhood, when they'd all played together unwatched and untroubled. Somehow, the thought just made him cry harder. They had drifted apart and Will hadn't been this close to Clary in a long time.

"It's ok to miss him," Clary said, "God knows, I still do even though I wasn't quite as close as you two." _And I forgot his birthday_, she added silently. Will snorted at that. Understatement of the century. Clary and Jem were friends. Will and Clary were friends. But Will and Jem were so much...more. Close did not begin to define them.

Will took in a rattling breath. "I just...my parents, they look at me like I'm broken and then they say I should get over it, move on from the past like it's so simple, like...taking out a new mortgage." Clary snorted. "And everyone else...they look at me like _I_ broke _him_." Clary remained silent, letting him say his piece. "No-one knows what it's like, to be...to be subjected to such h-hate." His voice trembled and hot, heavy tears finally began to overspill. They were immediately swiped away angrily.

"_Everyone_ hates me. And they have good reason to. I can't...c-can't s-stop them."

Clary stopped him. "No, you can't stop them hating you Will. But you just have to know that I don't hate you. Simon doesn't hate you. Magnus doesn't hate you."

"Magnus doesn't know what I did."

"He'll understand," she said softly.

"No." Will shook his head. "No he won't because I have no intentions of telling him."

Clary looked at him. "You have to tell Magnus some time." At Will's stubborn expression, she sighed; they were getting nowhere. "Tell me a memory of him. One of your happiest."

Will paused uncertainly for a moment, his eyes closed. "We met in school when we first all got to be grown-up men and go to 'the big bad boarding school', Will scoffed. "A clever way of disguising the fact that our parents were washing their hands of us."

Clary shifted uncomfortably and Will cursed his ignorance. Clary had gone to boarding school as well. "Of course that was only in my case. I'm sure your parents weren't like..." He looked at her, hoping she wouldn't start crying or something. He couldn't deal with tears. Least of all his own which were now falling freely down his cheeks. Clary was staring straight ahead. The only sound of the room was Will's slightly laboured breathing.

"My dad's a bastard."

It was a cold, blunt knife piercing the heavy silence of the room. The girl everybody loved so much; sweet, strawberry cheesecake Clary Fray who always had a smile to spare spoke without emotion. It shouldn't have comforted Will as much as it did. Maybe he just liked to know he wasn't alone. "He was an abusive drunk. And when my mum left...I was so sure he was going to carry on as if she'd never left. With...with me. You don't know how glad I was when he dumped me at the boarding school." She sniffed. Then, after a moment, she motioned for Will to continue.

He did, hesitantly. "We were all enrolled from the age of 11. That first night, I was so scared. I was scared of the dark you see and my nanny had refused to pack my nightlight or teddy bear. I was to act grown-up with the other boys. They didn't leave the light on and I didn't want to tell anyone that I was scared of the dark. And on top of all of that it was all so big and scary when I was 11 and didn't have my mother or nanny to tuck me into bed. I was in a room full of strangers. Apart from Alec," he added as an afterthought his face darkening. "He never seemed to have a problem being separated from his parents."

Will's hands clenched into fists. "It suddenly struck me how lonely it was and, well, I started crying," Will looked bashful.

"I thought I specified it had to be a happy memory," Clary butted in, looking at him reproachfully.

"It gets better, I promise." Will sucked in a deep breath. "Someone was suddenly next to me and I almost screamed. It was like a horror film." Will chuckled wistfully. "But then I heard them sniffle and he said, 'shut up you idiot. It's Jem'. I'd met him earlier on and he stuck out in my mind"

"Because of the eyes?" asked Clary.

"Because of the eyes," Will replied solemnly. "Silver like the stars. I was the sky and he was the stars." His voice broke at the end. Clary patted him on the arm. "God I'm such a mess," he whispered. Clary shook her head. Will smiled a little as he returned to telling his story.

"Jem was sniffling and he asked me, 'do you have any tissues? I have...allergies to... um, school.' It was so bloody ridiculous that I knew he'd been crying too and I laughed. "And somehow that made it ok because we weren't the only ones. So I told him we'd go look for one. He had a torch, my knight in shining armour, and we both went on a quest for tissues of all things. We ended up just exploring the school, found some of our top secret meeting places that night. It was strange. I wasn't scared of the dark with Jem. Everything was ok with him." Will finally trailed off. He shook his head, muttering, "it's a stupid memory to have."

"No Will," Clary squeezed his hand, smiling through the tears glistening in her emerald eyes. "It's beautiful."

"It's just a shame he's not here to share it with you," a bitter voice came from the doorway.

Clary and Will whipped their heads toward the noise; Clary letting out a gasp of surprise when she saw Alec leaning against the door. His eyes were hard and resentful. Clary thought she could see a sliver of the sorrow buried beneath.

It was gone in a flash though as Will leapt up from the table. "Just what exactly is your problem?" he snarled in Alec's face.

"You," Alec replied stonily.

* * *

Magnus decided to leave lunch ten minutes early after spending the good part of an hour with an unresponsive Simon who was permanently glued to his phone. He wasn't exactly a bundle of laughs to be around. He wandered the school, lost in his thoughts and sighed when he realised that blue eyes and black hair seemed to dominate most of his thoughts.

Both boys were linked together in some inexplicable way. They'd been fiends once. But shadows seemed to lurk constantly overhead. Magnus wondered, not for the first time, if he should keep his distance. What did they have to hide?

_Don't get too close_, a voice whispered in his head. Magnus shivered.

Suddenly, there was a bang and a crash that sounded awfully like a chair being knocked over accompanied by the sound of raised voices and a high pitched wail. Magnus' head shot up and he automatically moved towards the sound.

Somehow, he instinctively knew that at the centre of the commotion would be Alec or Will.

He thought for a second.

Most likely both.

He sped up his pace.

* * *

The fight was pretty equal, as always. They knew each others' moves from years of grappling and, like a perfectly practised dance routine, they collided in the middle of the classroom - Alec went for the stomach, Will went for the face. There were a few near misses then the sick squelch of impact. Alec felt red hot pain flare through his nose and his lip so he shoved his knee up and...

Then they fell apart.

Will was bent double. Clary was almost screeching from where she stood on the sidelines and honestly, Alec thought as he clutched his bleeding nose gingerly in his hand, how has someone not heard her? The sound of laboured breathing filled the small classroom.

They both simultaneously paused, looked up and lunged.

Clary screamed again.

* * *

Magnus supposed he would have expected the sight of blood and violence. He had, after all, punched Alec just a few short weeks ago upon meeting him, back when the confusion began between Alec and Will. It wasn't Magnus' fault that they both just happened to look remarkably similar.

However, he couldn't help the gasp that escaped him when he entered the classroom.

Will was hunched in the corner, bent double whilst Alec still stood in the centre of the room.

_Why does it always have to be him at the centre of every fight?_ Magnus thought, probably not for the last time.

The scarlet blood was contrasting grotesquely with his ivory skin, little raindrops of blood dotting his shirt and oozing out of his long, slender fingers. He was breathing raggedly but otherwise seemed unharmed.

Then he looked up.

And in that moment, seeing Alexander Lightwood's blood trailing down his skin and the raw desperation in his eyes, Magnus made a choice without knowing he'd made one at all.

_Sorry_, Alec's eyes seemed to plead as they held Magnus' gaze. And for some stupid reason his mind flashed back to some trashy magazine article about how long eye contact had to be to be able to tell if someone liked you or not.

Magnus sometimes hated his trivial mind.

He swallowed, averted his gaze and looked at Will who was no longer quite bent double. The boy offered a smile that was more wince than anything else and scrambled to get up. He held out an arm. "Help me up?" he asked.

Magnus turned back to Alec. "Are you alright?" He mentally smacked himself on the head as soon as the words left his lips. Alec merely raised an eyebrow as if to say _really_? and then winced.

Magnus rolled his eyes and took his arm. "Come on. We have to get you out of here."

Alec's eyes widened but he nodded and took Magnus' arm. He heard a sharp intake of breath behind him.

"Magnus?"

He didn't look back.

* * *

"You know, high school fights are nothing like they show in the movies," Magnus observed dryly as he raised a wet cloth to Alec's lip. "They're so much worse. All the blood," he shuddered. "I would know by now since I seem to stumble into most of them at this school. I wonder why that is?" he asked dryly.

Alec irritably snatched the cloth from his hand, dabbing the wounds a lot more vigorously than Magnus. "You started the first one by punching me."

"And rightfully so. I was defending my friend's honour from "Asshat Alec's" untoward actions against poor, innocent little Clary."

Magnus leaned against the counter next to Alec. They were in, ironically, the same bathroom that he'd reapplied Clary's make-up in because Magnus knew it to be a relatively abandoned bathroom. Plus, it had a lock. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to hide from the teachers in a _school_ but Magnus hadn't really considered that when he'd dragged them in there. He just knew at the time that he had to keep Alec safe.

Magnus eyed the broken mirror in front of him. _Maybe I have an issue with saving people_, he thought.

Despite his predicament, Alec tried to smile and somehow ended up wincing. "She's not that innocent."

Magnus tutted in disapproval. Finally, he took the cloth off Alec after watching his abysmal attempts at cleaning the cut on his lip and eye for a few minutes. "Honestly, how can someone suck this badly at applying a cloth to a wound? It's simple."

Alec mumbled something menacing under his breath, his muscles contorting in an unusual way.

Magnus smiled in realisation. "You're trying to scowl now but are finding that you can't aren't you?" he said knowingly.

"I hate you," Alec replied but it had no venom.

"And I'm loving this." Magnus poked out his tongue at him.

"Masochist," Alec mumbled.

"I believe you mean sadist, my dear. And no, I'm neither. Whips aren't really my thing. Maybe a little light bondage here and there but..."

"Oh my God!" Alec groaned, swatting Magnus' hands away to cover his flailing cheeks. "Stop talking," he ordered.

"You were the one to inappropriately take off your shirt," Magnus commented after a few minutes of silence. He looked down. He'd found Alec's next two tattoo/piercings: what looked like a treble clef tattoo wrapped snugly around his belly button and music notes running along a black stave just shy of his heart. His eyes lingered across the rippling ivory muscles gleaming before him. Magnus muffled a whimper. _Why oh why am I falling for a badass?_

Because that was what he was doing. He was falling and wondering if anyone was ever going to catch him. _Not in love_, Magnus thought. _I'm falling in...like in the unlikeliest way. _

Alec stared at him, removing his hands from his face. "I only did it to use as a cloth," he said.

"What?" Magnus resurfaced from his thoughts of falling and realised his glazed eyes were level with Alec's chest.

Alec merely revealed a tiny little smile but it quickly faded.

"Why didn't you go with Will?"

"What?" Magnus asked, distracted again.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to go put a shirt back on or..."

"No!" Magnus quickly said. "I mean, er, no. Sorry, just got a little distracted there. You were saying?"

There wasn't really much blood left on Alec's lips or nose now but Magnus continued to wipe them, gently following the smooth curve of pink.

"Why didn't you go with Will?" Alec asked quietly, his breath tickling Magnus' face. He hadn't realised they were so close, only a few inches between them, a gap so easily...

Magnus bit his lip as he swiped one last time over Alec's lip before moving away. "I don't know," he whispered after a while. _You looked the more broken_, he thought. It was true. At the time, Alec had looked like he'd needed him most. Somehow, Magnus got the impression that it wasn't the deciding factor in his decision.

"Your cuts are clean now," he said after a few moments of silence. "Do you want me to..." He held up the wet, bloodied shirt in his hands.

Alec gestured towards the bin. "I've got a spare one in my locker."

Magnus raised his eyebrows. Someone used to getting into fights perhaps? _No, definitely,_ thought Magnus. It was as if Alexander Lightwood had an inability to keep himself safe and his blood unspilled. Magnus would have to do it for him. What an exhausting, time consuming job.

He dumped the shirt in the bin and washed his hands, realising that this was the first time he'd ever had someone else's blood on his hand. Alec's influence knew no bounds. Then he stood in the middle of the room uncertainly, wringing his hand together until Alec patted the counter next to him a little tentatively.

They sat side by side, unsure what to do with the sudden silence they'd found themselves cocooned in. Alec was looking away at his reflection in the broken mirror behind him.

"You want to know what happened," he said levelly.

It wasn't a question but Magnus nodded slowly anyway. He was learning not to be startled by Alec's whimsical nature. If he wanted to tell his story, Magnus would let him.

Alec sucked in a shaky breath. His hands were trembling and Magnus realised he was more scared of this story than he was of the fight he'd just ended. Magnus placed a hand on his, hoping the warmth would sooth him.

"I h-haven't told anyone since April." Magnus didn't ask what April was, he just nodded.

"You don't have to tell me Alec. Not if you don't want to."Alec turned to him, blinking his big blue eyes. "I just want to help," Magnus whispered. Alec nodded and knotted their hands together, placing them on the counter between their legs.

There was another bout of silence and then: "When I was four I met Will by the stream in our garden. We lived in one of the big houses on the hills," he gestured with a vague arm movement, "up there. We...played together, became friends. Back then neither of us knew about the history between our two families."

Magnus furrowed his eyebrows but Alec shook his head slightly. A tale for another time. He let out a small huff of air and continued.

"Then, when we were eleven, we were sent to boarding school. I'm sure you've seen it: the big, brown building up in the hills." Magnus nodded. He distinctly remembered scoffing at the sight of its rolling lawns and endless bricked glory. To think that Alec had somehow ended up here...

"And there we met James Carstairs - Jem. "By then we'd already started to drift apart. Perhaps it was because we'd learned of the...difficult rivalries existing between our families. But Jem...he kept us together. We were best friends, did everything together."

He took out an old, scrappy looking wallet and pulled out a picture. It was similar to the one Will had in his locker - of the two black haired boys and a silver haired boy - only they looked a little older now, their faces leaner, and they were playing musical instruments. Will was playing the cello, Alec was playing the piano and the silver haired boy who Magnus now presumed was Jem was playing the violin. Whereas Will looked slightly at odds with the ungainly instrument, Alec and Jem looked perfectly at ease. Alec's hands rested lightly on the piano keys and Magnus knew if the photograph could move they'd be dancing, effortlessly spinning notes from thin air like silk. Jem had his cheek resting gracefully on the violin, the bow residing lightly in his fingers like a simple extension of his arm.

"When we were fifteen, sixteen we started going to parties and...Will and Jem started dating." Magnus' eyes widened a little at this revelation but then he guessed it would make sense. Whereas Jem and Alec's eyes were fixed firmly on the music, Will's eyes were gazing to the right at Jem an obvious hint of adoration amongst his features.

Magnus turned to look at Alec who had a neutral expression on his face, giving nothing away. "We carried on in the same way. We were still close but i guess you could say there was more...tension amongst us. I started making other friends whilst they grew more...in love, I suppose you could call it." Alec had a faraway look in his eyes. "Anyway, it was Jem's seventeenth and we weren't allowed to throw a party for him so we decided to just head to another guy in our year's party instead. Sebastian Verlac, he lives near Lake Lynn. You been there?"

Magnus shook his head.

"Neither have I since that night." Alec shook his head. "It was a good party but I left, um early." Magnus raised an eyebrow and he blushed slightly. "Anyway, I left Will and Jem together. I told Will to take care of Jem because he always was a massive lightweight."

Magnus nodded, not sure where this was going. "I went back to school just like normal. When I woke up, there was a teacher taking me to see a police officer." Alec paused. "And he said...he said that James Cartairs was missing. That he didn't come home that night and that the police were out looking for them." Alec was blinking rapidly. "I asked if Will was missing too. They said no, he was there. At school. Safe and sound.

"So I went upstairs to look for him and," Alec smiled coldly. "There he was, in his room with the bathroom door open, washing his hands. I walked up to him and I asked him where Jem was." A tremor wracked Alec's body. Magnus shifted until his arm was around his shoulder in what he hoped could be conceived to be a purely platonic gesture. "He said "I don't know where he is. I can't find Jem. And he started crying whilst I was yelling at him because he was supposed to take care of Jem. We both were."

A tear fell down Alec's cheek. He wiped it away angrily.

"And then I saw the water in the sink.

"It was red."

Magnus went rigid. "It could have been...his," he offered weakly, his voice barely there at all. Because he'd expected a little rivalry and violence in this story but not...this.

Alec shook his head. "Two hours later they found Jem's body at the bottom of Lake Lynn. That's what Will didn't realise: in a small town like this, things aren't easily lost, especially not people." Magnus didn't bother commenting on how untrue that statement was.

"They arrested Will on suspicion of murder that very same day. He was the obvious suspect since he was the last one to be seen with Jem leaving the party."

Magnus felt sick. The world seemed to be tilting off its axis, slipping from beneath his feet. His friend was...what? A liar? A murderer? Surely people like that weren't allowed to be in public?

"What did...what happened next?" asked Magnus a little dazedly as he steadied the side of his body that wasn't around Alec with an arm. He didn't really know if he wanted the end of the story.

"His room was photographed. They found a bloody shirt. Everything was investigated. Will was kept...somewhere. Not prison, I don't think. He was still a minor."

Magnus shuddered. Alec's voice had taken on a cold and clinical tone, as if he were explaining how to solve an algebra problem and not talking about a murder. Magnus supposed keeping himself detached was Alec's only way to stop himself from reliving the memory.

"I left school, came here. When he tried to call me to explain, I blocked his number. I - I tried to have nothing more to do with the trial. I made new friends and shut off that part of my life for good so that there weren't any reminders. But then he came here and now here we are."

They sat in silence for a few more moments. "Apparently, he tried to turn up at Jem's funeral. He was escorted from the door."

"Was he..." Magnus began. Alec fixed him with his gaze. He knew exactly what Magus was asking.

"Guilty?" Alec lowered his head and suddenly the hand clasping Magnus' own was squeezing tight. "Apparently not. They didn't find enough evidence against him. No sign of struggle on the body or whatever. The Herondales have good connections in this town. I think Will's dad is even a lawyer." Alec shrugged.

"The charges were dropped but no-one believed it. Everyone just tried to move past it. Everyone except Will."

Alec turned to Magnus and suddenly all the emotion was back in his voice. "He's dangerous Magnus. He becomes obsessed. See, in this picture? See how he's looking at Jem? Jem was _everything_ to him and he couldn't let anyone take that away from him. So he did it himself. And he'll do it to you if you let him get too close."

Magnus shuffled uneasily. He felt numb, like this wasn't real at all. Someone else called Magnus was being told that the sweet, slightly shy boy who they'd befriended, who they'd hung out with in their own _house_, was actually a psychotic murderer who had killed his own boyfriend. It couldn't be him. This wasn't real. It couldn't be Will. He wasn't the murder type.

"Will just doesn't look like he's capable of that kind of..." he started to protest feebly.

"He is Magnus. Just, God, just trust me he is. H-he took away my best friend and then had the nerve to turn up at his funeral. And God, him coming here I just... I hate him. I hate Will Herondale and everything he's done and I hate that I used to be friends with him and that Jem probably kissed him the night he was murdered by him."

An infestation of words seeped through his mind like poison.

**_Murderer. My friend's a murderer. Will Herondale is a murderer. Murderer murderer murderer murderermurderermurderer._**

Quiet little sobs filled the air and Magnus thought that this was probably the first time Alec had cried since his friend died. "He loved Will," Alec whispered. "That was all he ever did wrong. And God knows none of us knew what a mistake that would be. But Jem was so...sweet. All he wanted to do was love everybody and play music. That was all he ever wanted to do."

Magnus pulled Alec towards him, watching as the angry boy he'd once known fell to pieces and shards around him. He was reminded of something Alec said to them when they first met. _Everyone loses sometime Magnus._

Magnus was beginning to wonder if Alec ever won.

But he vowed to himself to fix this lost little boy, to help Alec finally win.

"Shhh, it's alright. It'll be okay," he whispered into his ear. "Everything will be alright in the end."

He looked around at the broken shards of Alec though, and a seed of doubt crept into his heart.

What if he couldn't fix him? What if Alec Lightwood remained scattered in pieces forever?


	20. Life Or Rather Its Effect On Cornflakes

**Oh my God, _two _updates in _one _week? It can't be true! But it is. Enjoy it while it lasts. Anyway, here is the next chapter. This is mostly pre-party and a little bit of party. I had to split it to two because *looks up* that's a lot of words...**

**The quote makes me sad because there is no more ID books to come and no Jem in this story. :( Why do I do these things to myself? **

* * *

'_Will's voice dropped. "Everyone makes mistakes, Jem."_

_"Yes," said Jem. "You just make more of them than most people."' _

- Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

* * *

_A figure was in the distance, calling out to him._

_Magnus couldn't see through the fog; it was so thick it seemed to cling to his skin like an icy blanket. Shivering, he waded through the relentless mist, feeling under his feet that the ground was getting less marshy and more pebbly. It was only when he heard the splash of his feet that he stopped. _

_The mist had cleared slightly and he could see the figure more clearly, somehow standing in the very centre of the lake. _

_It was Will. _

_Even though his back was to him, Magnus could tell it was Will just by his stance and the midnight black hair which seemed to blend into the sky above him. How well he seemed to know this boy and yet, he didn't seem to know Will at all. What was he hiding?_

_The clothes his friend was dressed in were white with scarlet markings that Magnus couldn't decipher running along the seams like thread. There was something Magnus was meant to remember, something about Will. He brushed it aside though, too overjoyed to see his friend. Will was a light in the darkness and Magnus needed to see him up close._

_ He set off through the water. It seemed to cling to his legs but he continued, slowly, like he was wading through syrup. Strangely enough, the water didn't get any deeper than below knee level. The lake was really more like a large puddle. _

_Finally, he got to Will and called his name. _

_"Magnus!" Will replied, his voice warm like honey. It was actually rather odd for Will but Magnus shrugged it off. _

_Will still hadn't turned around. "Will?" Magnus asked. _

_He turned around and Magnus felt a rush of warmth at the familiarity of seeing his friend in the darkness. He couldn't see Will's face though. It was shrouded in darkness but Magnus was sure it was him. _

_Will brought his arms up around Magnus who shuddered at how cold Will was. It was like hugging a statue. "I'm so c-c-cold Will," Magnus managed to say through his now chattering teeth. _

_"Are you?" Will titled his head. "Here, this'll warm you up." And he trailed a finger covered in some warm liquid that Magnus hadn't noticed before. Where had that come from? _

_When he looked down, he saw a red glint and gasped. _

_"Will? Will, what the hell is that?" Will didn't reply but held up his sleeve smeared in red next to Magnus' arm. _

_"We match," he breathed against Magnus' lips. _

_And then Magnus looked into his eyes. _

_Or what should have been his eyes. _

_What he would have given to see that unmistakeable flash of violet. He was met with empty black voids. _

_Magnus screamed. _

_"Sshh," Will calmed him. "It'll all be ok." _

_"Do you trust me?" he asked. He was still tracing the liquid in complex patterns on Magnus' arm, meaningless letters stringed into nonsensical sentences. He didn't want to smell it, knowing that red, slightly thicker than liquid could only mean one thing. _

_Blood. _

_Will had blood everywhere on his hands. His breath smelt of rusty iron. _

_A few tears trickled down Magnus cheeks. Will brushed them away, leaving red behind. _

_"No," Magnus finally choked out. He didn't trust him. _

_Will immediately stopped holding him. He smiled, a wicked glint as sharp as a blade. "Good," he said. "You shouldn't." _

_"I guess it's too late now. You're here. A mistake Magnus. It was a mistake coming here, to me. You're just like Jem." Magnus shook his head frantically but was stopped by Will placing a blood splattered hand on his head. Suddenly, he knew how this was going to end. He could feel it oozing onto his scalp: the finality of blood and death sinking into his skin. _

_"I guess we all make mistakes though," Will whispered. _

_And before Magnus knew it, he was being plunged into deep dark water. _

_He squeezed his eyes shut as he sank further and further down into the suddenly bottomless lake. _

_He didn't fight, didn't struggle, didn't even open his eyes._

_He knew that if he opened them, he'd see blood. Everywhere._

* * *

The day of the party loomed surprisingly bright, the sun having finally found a way to penetrate the dank mist.

Magnus shakily scrambled to his window, his legs almost giving out beneath him as he opened his window. He breathed in deep gulps of the fresh air, his chest rising and falling heavily. It was just beginning to get chilly with a slight kick to the air.

Magnus revelled in the cool air caressing his boiling skin which was coated in a sheen of sweat. Strange, he was sure he'd been cold in the dream.

As he looked out, he saw the leaves on the two trees in his small front garden were turning a beautiful tarnished gold and deep amber. A few lazily fell to the ground in the gentle breeze. On the street below, a man was whistling whilst he was walking his dog.

Everything was so...normal. Magnus saw everything as a threat though, too wrapped up in dreams and nightmares. The whistle was a high pitched wail to his ears, the fluffy poodle a savage beast baring its teeth.

For the past few nights, blue eyes had been haunting him. Now that he thought about it, that wasn't really haunting. Haunting was far worse. Last night, it had just been Will. But it hadn't really been Will at all. Those soulless black eyes belonged to Sebastian, not Will, not sweet Will.

But maybe they did. Maybe this was the true Will. Maybe Magnus had been wrong to befriend him. He should just follow Alec's advice he'd given after unravelling the mystery of Will's past. _Stay away._ Magnus didn't know for sure if he could do that if he went to Clary's house tonight. Truthfully, he didn't want to miss it but he also didn't want to go to a party. He actually wanted to snuggle with his old teddy bear that he had gone without for years and watch Season 2 of Glee all day until he felt somewhat better.

Clary was having none of that. "Why?" she asked, a whiny tone creeping into her voice.

"I just...don't really feel well."

"Is this why you were off school yesterday?"

Magnus said yes. It wasn't a lie.

"Are you sick?" Clary asked.

"No," Magnus reluctantly admitted. He didn't want to lie to Clary.

"Have you got a cold?"

"No," Magnus ground out. "Headache? Broken leg? Any broken bone? STI?" Magnus answered no to the first three and downright refused to dignify the last with a response.

"Then you're fine," she said brightly.

"Clary, I'm just really quite...upset at the moment." Magnus sighed.

"Oh," he heard a bit of static for a few moments and then, "what's up?"

_Damnit. This is why I should have faked illness_, thought Magnus, "I don't want to talk about it now."

"Oh, okay." Magnus wondered if he'd upset Clary as she was silent but then she spoke quietly and hopefully. "But...you know, the party might help you feel better." Magnus could practically hear her eyelashes batting through the phone line.

"Damnit you are relentless!" Magnus exclaimed.

Clary giggled. "Plus, you're my gay best friend. And," she said dramatically. "Isabelle isn't coming. She's being really moody with me at the moment..." There was silence at the other end of the line for a few moments before she continued, slightly less brightly. "You have to be there, keep me company."

Choosing to leave the stuff about Isabelle for another day he said, "Clary, I'm one of the only gay people you've met."

"All the more reason you should come, represent the gay community," she laughed. "And you're not the only one. There is Will but you're above him in the friends list."

Hearing Will's name was a punch in the gut. "Gee thanks," Magnus managed to force out weakly. "Will doesn't talk much," he said absentmindedly, "so that doesn't help your case."

Clary laughed and Magnus paused, wondering whether to ask or not. "Is he...going to be there?"

"Will?" Magnus nodded then realised Clary couldn't see him through the phone. "No actually, he's not going to be there. He doesn't "approve" of these sort of things." Magnus could practically hear her eyes rolling through the phone although it sounded rather strained. "Why? Did you two fight? Is that why you're upset?" She immediately pounced on him and Magnus winced.

"I'll talk to you about it later, at the party" he said, making it clear that he finally decided to go. It would be good, after all. Forget about Will and Jem and murder...

"Coolness," Clary said.

"Clary, you need to stop quoting Mean Girls. In fact," he listened intently for a moment. "Is that... You're watching it right now aren't you?"

"No," Clary and there was a quick scuffling noise - presumably to turn the TV off. "And it's Cady not Clary." Magnus rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. Sometimes you've got to have a bit of Clary's cheesiness.

"Don't forget you're picking Simon up at 4 to save him the utter mortification of being driven by his _mummy_." Magnus didn't laugh. What he would give for his mother to actually know he was going to a party, never mind drive him.

"Don't worry," Magnus reassured her. "I'll be there. With the alcohol," he added. "And I'll make sure wittle Simikins doesn't drink too much and gets there and back before bedtime."

"Simikins _really_? That's the best you could do?" asked Clary, laughing, as she hung up.

Magnus was still smiling as he turned to his wardrobe to prepare his outfit. He'd thought about it over the weeks and narrowed it down to 5 options. It should only take 3 or 4 hours to get ready, so he would have time to go to he store and pick up everything on Clary's list in probably the least discrete way possible.

* * *

The store was tiny, just a newsagents really but with a strangely huge alcohol section. Magnus didn't know whether to be glad he didn't have to go anywhere else or sad at the decline in standards. Nevertheless, he set to work methodically collecting every item from Clary's very specific list.

Just as the last bottle clinked into place and Magnus thought his arm might just about drop off from the heaviness of the basket (he really should have gotten a trolley), he heard the bell above the door tinkle to announce someone's arrival.

Magnus identified him as soon as he walked in. The shock of unruly black hair was a dead giveaway. Alec, dressed in a mournful looking sweater and some ragged old jeans.

Embarrassed by the huge volume of alcohol in his basket, Magnus backed towards the back of the store as Alec approached. But in his haste to get away, a bottle fell out. Alec's head whipped up sharply at the sound and Magnus ran for it as it began rolling towards the till. Maybe Alec would just forget about it and go back to...

"I took you as more of a cider person to be honest." A voice called from behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Alec," he greeted in a small voice as he swivelled around. "I didn't...see you there."

"Of course you did," Alec said in a brisk manner. "And I saw you." He examined the bottle before sticking out his tongue in disgust. Magnus couldn't help it, his eyes darted to follow the movement. "Some strong shit you've got there Magnus," he said before settling the bottle back in amongst the rest with a small clink.

"Bad experiences?" asked Magnus.

Alec looked a little green. "You could say that," he muttered weakly. "I wouldn't advise it."

"It's not for me," Magnus insisted, eyes wide. What must Alec think of him here alone on a Saturday night buying all of this alcohol like some sad...

Alec smiled knowingly. He placed a hand on Magnus' shoulder and he immediately relaxed. "I know Magnus. It's not physically _possible_ for one person to consume that much alcohol. I should know," he added, absently scratching the back of his neck. "So unless you're predicting some kind of shortage of alcohol and are stocking up...Let me guess, has Clary got you on the booze rampage?" he asked.

Magnus nodded mutely.

"I've had that many a time." Alec seemed almost wistful. "Oh the joys of being 18 first. Or having a fake ID." He shrugged nonchalantly as if they weren't in front of the cashier. He seemed too engrossed in his phone to look up though so Magnus guessed they were safe.

"What are you in here for?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation to safer ground. Alec held up three items - a packet of cigarettes and what looked to be 2 purple wrappers each with a green frog on it.

Magnus decided to go for the subtle approach. He tutted. "Sugar's bad for you, you know."

Alec laughed. "Don't mock the chocolate Freddo. It's 10p's worth of heavenly deliciousness. Besides, you're buying cirrhosis of the liver in a bottle."

"And you're buying lung cancer in a tube," Magnus reprimanded, pointing.

"But 10p? Sounds too good to be true. Can't have you getting fat." He plucked one out of Alec's grasp, taking the cigarettes with it, and placed the cigarettes behind him and the chocolate in his basket. "That would be irresponsible if I let you have them." Magnus poked him in the nose. "I guess we're b-both responsible then," said Alec, a little breathlessly before he took half of the contents of Magnus' basket and dumped them at the cashier. "What are you..."

"Hey Ed," he greeted the cashier as he dumped the bottles on the counter with his chocolate Freddo on top.

"Oh, are you done with your weirdly morbid flirting now? Goody for me," the cashier remarked as he proceeded to scan the numerous items. Alec rolled his eyes but Magnus could see his neck flush pink above the collar of his jumper.

He turned his attention back to the cashier - Ed. He was probably not much older than them - in his young twenties at most with vibrant ginger hair in crazy curls and freckles dotting pretty much every available stretch of white skin. The huge glasses and baggy black shirt which had 'Keep Calm and Play Halo' on it seemed to overwhelm his small face and lanky body.

"Getting absolutely 'bladdered' tonight?" he asked sarcastically as he bagged the items without any help whatsoever from Alec who was leaning casually against the counter.

"How did you guess?" replied Alec.

"You're getting predictable." Ed shook his head.

"Says the person who works in _'Mike's Off-Licence'_ both Friday and Saturday night," Alec deadpanned.

"Fancy taking me with you to one of your wild teenage parties?" It saddened Magnus greatly that Ed actually looked quite hopeful.

"Stick to your GaGa Wednesdays at the gay bar," Alec replied but Magnus was surprised to see him pat the cashier on the shoulder. Gay? He wondered. _Well, it's obvious Alec is a...regular here._

The boy narrowed his eyes at Alec but turned to look behind him at Magnus. "And who's your friend Alec?" What Magnus guessed was an attempt at a sultry look crossed his eyes.

"Magnus," Alec said. "He's new," he added before fiddling with the wrapper on his chocolate wrapper.

"Well Magnus," Ed began. "Alec here's an absolutely shit tour guide. Plus, he has absolutely no filter."

"I do," protested Alec, licking his fingers of melted chocolate. "I just choose not to use it."

Ed ignored him. "Anytime you need anything just ask..."

"He's not interested," supplied Alec before collecting their bags.

Ed flashed what he probably hoped was a dazzling smile before brightly exclaiming. "Merry Christmas!"

"It's the fucking first of November," muttered Alec as he pulled Magnus out of the shop with a scowl, slamming the door shut just as "Scrooge!" was shouted behind them.

"What was _that_?" asked Magnus.

"What?" Alec replied innocently.

"The flirting."

Alec spit out his chocolate. "The _what_?!"

Magnus smirked as Alec turned bright red. "So cute." He patted Alec's scarlet cheek as he scowled. "I'll see you at the party Alexander," he said before he turned the other way and walked down the street, leaving Alec spluttering in his wake.

"I'm not..."

"Oh you're going!" Magnus called back as he smiled deviously.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly. He had a nap due to the troubled sleep last night which unfortunately left him ten minutes late. He quickly scrambled out the house, only just remembering to grab his keys before he launched himself into his car.

It was an old, battered thing which they'd brought over from America so it was on the wrong side of the road..or the right side of the wrong road...whichever way you want to look at it. Magnus loved it. His dad had bought it for him on his sixteenth birthday. they had been halfway through restoring it before he died. Magnus quickly flicked the radio on to some charts radio station, setting the volume to loud.

He found Simon's house easily enough considering it was just a few streets down from him. Like every other house in this neighbourhood, it was small and nondescript. With a square patch of grass and one tree in the front garden.

Magnus unlocked the door cautiously as Simon came out the house, his shoulders hunched and his body looking drawn in on himself. In other words, he didn't look like Simon at all. When he came into the car and Magnus could see his face closer, he looked even paler that he usually did with deep purple bags underneath his eyes.

Magnus' eyes must have bulged out of his head at the dramatic change as Simon snapped, "what?" when he got in the car, slamming the door shit so hard it rattled.

"You look kind of ill," Magnus pointed out bluntly.

"Gee thanks," Simon muttered weakly. It didn't contain any of his usual bite.

"Are you sure you're..." Magnus began.

"Just drive Sparkles," the smaller boy barked.

Magnus stiffened immediately. Sparkles was what Sebastian and Jonathan called him. He'd never have expected it from Simon. He flung the car straight into gear and it lurched forward with an indignant squeal. Magnus noted with some bitter satisfaction that Simon banged his head against the door.

"Oops," was all he said, smirking slightly at Simon's scowl.

The rest of the car journey was silent.

* * *

"Maggie, you know you're like my bestest ever friend right? I loooove you so, so much. You would never hurt me right Maggie pie? Why can't all guys be gay like you. Well, maybe not gay because you wouldn't really like to kiss me and I quite like kissing but nice and helpful like you. And good at makeup. Simon once tried to do it and I ended up looking like a hooker/clown."

Magnus laughed as Clary wrapped her arms around him like an octopus. Clary was...exactly what he'd expected when drunk: clingy, bubbly and making about as much sense as a nun in a brothel. Ok, maybe Magnus was a little tipsy himself. Not really enough to lower his inhibitions, just enough to give everything a nice, warm buzz.

Clary's house was big. It actually looked more like a castle to Magnus. He was sure when he'd rolled up that he was driving straight into Downton Abbey. Yet now it was crammed full of people. People that Magnus had never seen before in his life crammed into nooks kissing and...more, dancing, frantically chugging down alcohol, holding drunken conversations with each other, stripping, playing bizarre drinking games...

He could imagine himself easily getting hooked on the buzz of life around him. People greet you like they're your long lost brother and even thought its synthetic it's still...nice.

Nice but not real.

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus caught sight of a lone figure sat at the bar. "I'll be back in a minute," he murmured to Clary, untangling her arms from where they were locked around his waist before making his way through the sweaty bodies to the bar.

He perched himself delicately on the neighbouring stool, trying to see if there was any alcohol left underneath the smooth granite counter.

Well, now he knew why everyone was so drunk. The bar was drained dry. It looked like it had once contained some expensive alcohol. Magnus had checked, and now he he wondered not for the first time just how 'cool' Clary's father would be with this party.

The figure beside him sat hunched over the counter, nursing a tiny plastic cup of beer which only contained about a mouthful of beer in it. Magnus reached over and flicked the cup with a manicured nail to get his attention.

Simon looked up.

"You want to tell me who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?" Magnus asked, nonchalantly crossing one leg over the other. He glanced over at Simon "And every meal after that, it looks like."

Simon sighed. "Life," he replied. His sombre eyes met Magnus' in the dark room and the brown had never looked so dull.

Magnus nodded. "It has been known to do that." He flipped himself over the counter, having seen a glint of liquid.

"Life is a piss take," muttered Simon.

"True," Magnus acquiesced. "But think about it this way: if you didn't have piss, you wouldn't have life and then you wouldn't even have the cornflakes in the first place," Magnus said as he rifled through the mostly empty glass bottles stowed away in shelves underneath the counter. He held up what looked to be a half empty bottle of some brown substance in the light, smiling a little in triumph.

He looked over at Simon who was kind of gaping at him. "Is this meant to be the life-altering advice that triggers the epiphany that earns me billions?"

The other boy shrugged. "You're not going to have any more than that?" he asked Simon, indicating the now empty plastic cup of beer.

Simon glanced down at his drink as if he hadn't even realised it was there. He shook his head sadly.

"Good, then you can drive me home." Unscrewing the cap on his retrieved bottle, he vaulted himself back over the bar and lithely positioned himself back into his seat. It was only when he started silently sipping his drink that he realised it was non-alcoholic. _Figures_, he thought. _A couple of hours into a party and already there's only flat coke left._

"Do you ever wish you could go back and do something all over again?" Simon abruptly spoke up again. "Or even," he looked into the distance, "just not do it at all."

Magnus paused, the bottle halfway to his lips. He thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Sure. But that's just...how it works. You do some things right and then some things wrong. There's triumphs and errors." Magnus said as he took a swig of coke, wincing.

"A big error," Simon mumbled as he lowered his head onto the bar surface again.

Magnus side-eyed him. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

"No." Simon swallowed. "No, I don't."

He got up from the bar, placed a hand on Magnus' shoulder (Magnus noticed with some amusement that he had to get up on is tiptoes to do so) and said "sorry about earlier Mag. I won't take the actions of one man's piss up out on you again. Thanks for making me appreciate my cornflakes."

They both smiled at each other.

It was short lived. Suddenly, there was a crash and a sound of raised voices above the thumping bass of the music.

Simon sighed. "Shit. They've arrived."


End file.
